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lirik lagu gang ties – sob odee

[intro]
f*ck all that talkin’, lil’ boy, let’s get it
you get busy and bring the godd*mn guns
what you got out?
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
all of my lil’ n*ggas [?] how y’all [?]
all my lil’ n*ggas with that, what i say? ayy

[verse 1]
all of my lil’ n*ggas with that sh*t, so stop the cap
talkin’ ’bout you active, we the ones who knock sh*t off the map
them .308s, they put his ass to bed and made him a nap
he a b*tch in person, that’s why he act gangster on the app
all that sh*t talkin’ he did, he can’t even use his lips
this a striker, once i do a drill, bounce out and switch the whips
arp a fully, it’s hard to control, put on the grip
tucked inside my hoodie, i’m gon’ let it blow and dump the clip
i know my opps really want blood ’cause i’m that n*gga and they broke
plus my numbers d*mn near on the charts, i’m the one who gettin’ hope
n*gga takin’ somethin’ from me like hangin’ yourself from bare rope
freaky b*tch, she m*st*rbatin’ soon as she get off the coke
what you know ’bout tryna hop out, chase your victim ’til he fall?
they took one of mines and laughed, we did the same when it was y’alls
vonnie got the wheel, d*mn near crashed the v like it was paul
i get caught in a jam, 12 start askin’ sh*t, i don’t recall
ridin’ through the park at night, i’m tryna catch them playin’ ball
third party, i let them shoot it out, then i’m gon’ get involved
bro gon’ beat that body ’cause none of these murders gettin’ solved
green tips, big ar bullets, fmj go through a wall, uh
[chorus]
knock it off, if you want that gun, you better pop it off
and he was bein’ flashy, grab that chain and take his noggin off
dead wrong tryna beef with me, you still live in your mama house
f*ck all of that talkin’, let’s get busy, bring them choppers out
three grams and a russian, shoot at me, i dump a dozen
let this forty sing like sza, i don’t mind if we in public
ain’t gon’ blow that b*tch, so why you buy that gun? you ain’t on nothin’
with that switch you gotta swap that standard out and grab a hundred, uh

[verse 2]
i ain’t goin’ back broke ’cause i got paid off sellin’ onions
put it on the scale, four forty*eight, that sh*t my favorite number
ain’t no chitter*chat, they play with me, we f*ck up the summer
goin’ tit for tat, we hit they blocks with pipes like i’m the plumber
n*ggas slept on me, okay, it’s cool, i let them slumber
really been that n*gga, i’m the sh*t, go get a plunger
yeah, i start my day by makin’ plays and fill my lungs with gunja
even though he never paid me for that pack, i still’ll from him, uh

[chorus]
knock it off, if you want that gun, you better pop it off
and he was bein’ flashy, grab that chain and take his noggin off
dead wrong tryna beef with me, you still live in your mama house
f*ck all of that talkin’, let’s get busy, bring them choppers out
three grams and a russian, shoot at me, i dump a dozen
let this forty sing like sza, i don’t mind if we in public
ain’t gon’ blow that b*tch, so why you buy that gun? you ain’t on nothin’
with that switch you gotta swap that standard out and grab a hundred, uh

- sob odee

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