Lyrics
Yeah
Gang
Yeah
Aye
Better stay in ya lane 'cause you must have a death wish
Don't talk to da feds 'cause you might just vanish
Don't trip get put inna spliff
Two men step we pull dem triggers
And Count dem figures
And Drill these ****
Opp block step with me and my drillers
Chase down K with my dippa
They say they're proper, well known cappers on the op block we rising slappers
Beef with flops can't rate these rappers 019 I been on crashing
Don't get caught in traffic
My men tapped, throw him inda back that's madness
Bitch mind your manners got down M we on badness
I heard I got racks on my head, we be outside we smoking loud your bro got shot in the leg
Fuck your family if I see you put two in your head
We strapping led don't call us bluff
Gripping semis riding when it's dark, we let that spark at G park pussy boy play your part
Gonna need more than a BP vest when I step round there with a FMJ
Heard they calling for peace (fuck that)
We slapping corn where ever they say
Frontline marching Two sticks barge-in
Who wants war with a Seven side Sergeant?
Pull that Blast it
Tell me who's fastest
No stress when I miss my target
Got five in the bag for the reload
Two sticks up but I'm yelling out Three bro
Gotta move this bag on the D-low no detour when I'm dishing out free throws
Put five inna clip told bro get to mine by four
Three inna car, got two in my hand R2 now one on the floor
S got stabbed in the arm
R froze up like a stick
M got caught at da beach
Fat bitch taking the piss
My side bully these kids
L got stabbed in da face
V got stabbed in da neck
S got chopped no trace
Gang ain't taking a break
Pussy boy run and get sprayed
I chased down K and stabbed his arm
We chased down D lil bitch was fast
Gang stabbed your mum then stabbed your dad
They went back home had a laugh
They all teamed up and done up a song
Really shows that my side's getting it done
They all teamed up and done up a song
Really shows that my side's getting it done
Can't rate that side
We grip and ride
'Cause tell that bitch stop capping
Done it with twos like I done it with fours
All on board when it's time for the action
Don't chat 'bout me 'cause I pull sticks and splashed up opps
You can call me a opp block threat
I got ten but T and U held one
Now look they're dead
They try run but they won't get far
Loaded beamers shoot from the car
We creep through the dark
Slapping at six, hit legs at G park
We got shots, got plenty of shooters
Your boys dying too many losing
Two got cheffed they tried to reboot 'em
Don't move wrong bitch stick to the movement
Ha ha
Should've killed me
Wait 'til I catch you bitch
L's up
Pussy
Written by: LF 70
