They Call That Gangsta (feat. The R.O.C., Lex the Hex Master)

Top down, bitches drop down to their knees

When they're in the midst of some real G's

Real G shit AK's with banana clips

Bring out the inner gorilla you son of a bitch

I'ma take a big hit, hold it in, let it go

Inhale, exhale only marijuana smoke

No joke, man, I ain't even laughing

Ain't no time to argue squeeze a trigger and let the gun blast

All my hitters and bitches and real killers and drug dealers

I hold it down for you cause I be a vendetta in G flag

Of what color

Bitch you look at me sideways I cut your eye out with a box cutter

See my dog no collar, no chain

And my bark and bite are equal so they one and the same

I ain't new to the game so don't play a punk with me

Grab your toilet paper cause I turn your whole life shitty

They call that gangsta

What I'm doing, who I be

Ain't nobody dead or alive even fucking with me

Gangsta

Gangsta

Born in the back of a low rider with hydraulics and spokes

And them low pro tires

Baptizing forty's behind the liquor store

With my young G's so we dreaming of getting more

Gangsta

That's what you call gangsta, y'all RuPauls

No balls when we check off your shit you guys are too small

We move off in the direction, with less stress and more sexing

From the section, that means your woman are now our lesson

Me and Blaze don't check, they want 'em down

Collect what it gotta be in our circle of this shit

No sweating these suckers know all occasion

'Cause punks they get their hating

We spraying at the sweater

We got Satan at gun point already

Let it rain confetti, if you dead and gone that's savvy

We skeet off in them pirellis

Them boys were never jelly

We shoot it out, get buried

I'm mashing, pumping out in my box chevy like who's ready

My belly always stuffed with chumps I eat em up

With their luck so what, we're never help you ain't born tough

Not to self, you see me head down, let's talk

I'm beating my chest, I'm worldwide you can't get enough

They call that gangsta

What I'm doing, who I be

Ain't nobody dead or alive even fucking with me

Gangsta

Gangsta

Born in the back of a low rider with hydraulics and spokes

And them low pro tires

Baptizing forty's behind the liquor store

With my young G's so we dreaming of getting more

Gangsta

Too many rangsters, poo putters and pranksters

Not enough gangstas, gun butters and shanksters

Tell me what you bang for, I'm pulsing these haters anger

These fist cuffed tangler the Queens got me strangler

Lex the Hex Master, trenching the necks bastard

Claiming he drops classics, smack 'em back to Jurassic

Practicing black magic while making factory caskets

I'll leave gash, sticking and moving just call me Cassius

We're not affiliated, packing heavy radiator

Sorry, real G's don't find skinny jeans intimidating

All initiated cowards get asphyxiated

Flow's sophisticated so Lex is highly anticipated

Faith tainted, my face painted I must be sick

Maintained to stay faded to fuck a bitch

And by that time next year they all know me

Hex the Master, the R.O.C. and Blaze ya dead homie

They call that gangsta

What I'm doing, who I be

Ain't nobody dead or alive even fucking with me

Gangsta

Gangsta

Born in the back of a low rider with hydraulics and spokes

And them low pro tires

Baptizing forty's behind the liquor store

With my young G's so we dreaming of getting more

Gangsta