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josh groban - i'm a gangster lyrics

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don’t player hate on me, player hate somebody else
yo, yo yo i’m a gangster
where my dogs at?
bark with me if you’re my dog
yo yo yo, i’m going, im gonna give a shout out to all the player haters
(i don’t like player haters)
if you’re a player hater don’t player, player hate on me
(player hate somebody else)
i’m a gangster, i’m straight up
(straight up gangster, dude)
grrr i’m steaming mad. grrr

i’m a gangster, i’m a straight up g
the gangster life is the life for me
shooting people by day, selling drugs by night
being a gangster is h-lla tight.
i walk around town with a stark erection, then gave your mom a yeast infection
i saw the police man and i punched him in the eye
to serve and protect, what a lie!
i also don’t like white people, you shouldn’t too
and don’t get me started about the jews

i’m a gangster
grrr i’m mad
i’m a gangster
my rhymes are bad
i’m a gangster
i’m iced out like a freezer
i’m a gangster
i don’t listen to weezer

i dropped out of school at the age of 3 (why?)
coz all the teachers tried to player hate on me.(oh)
my rhymes are cool, just like doing cocaine
my rhymes are hot, like a burning flame
sisqo is my homie, he’s a ganster too
me and sisqo are the leaders of the gangster crew
i like to be in jail and he likes to sing and dance(yay)
some say we’re the perfect match

step off! step back! step awaaay! step back! don’t step forward! step back! don’t step forwards! step back! backwards, don’t step to me! do not step to meee! grr

i’m giving a shout out to my homies in cell block 8
being in jail sucks ’cause you always have to m-st-rb-t-
except when a jewish person goes to jail all my homies cheer
they will make mince meat out of his rear
ben peddy helped me make the gangster beat to this song
i shot him in the face coz he looked at me wrong

i’m a gangster
i drop bombs like hiroshima
i’m a gangster
b-tch suck on my wiener!
i’m a gangster
i drive a cool car
i’m a gangster
i smoke weed in a cigar

yo my gangster flow
yo, yo yo yo

n-body thought i’d blow up like a firestone tire-
oh there’s no beat left

(gunshots)
die, die you santa clause die
no i don’t wanna do acapella

i like to slap b-tches
i like to slap hoes…



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