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nedarb - bgs (babygangsoldiers) lyrics

[intro: lil house phone & nedarb]
don’t start all the way from the beginning
i am
okay, you did?
i’ma do it
yo
(sketta)
did you delete the last one i just did?
nah
(yo, ayy)
(i been flexin’, obviously)
i like the intro you did on the last one
(in my car, a pocket tee, whoa)
keep that one
ayy, look
i been flexin’, obviously
in my car, a pocket tee
i been flexin’, obviously
in my car, a pocket tee

[verse 1: lil house phone]
i been flexin’ obviously
in my car, a pocket tee
ball like i’m charles barkley
i got that guap, it’s all on me
i been flexin’ obviously
in my car, a pocket tee
i ball like i’m charles barkley
whoa, yeah
tell them n-ggas keep on hatin’ ’cause it ain’t no stoppin’ me
pull up on ’em with that mask on like we dressed for halloween
keep my d-ck up in some d-ckies, i don’t f-ck with robin jeans
i came with a couple shooters, don’t you think ’bout robbin’ me
i been sniffin’ so much blow and f-ckin’ hoes like charlie sheen
and your b-tch gon’ hit my line cause you didn’t pipe her properly
you ain’t poppin’ b-tch, we pop up with them sticks like hockey team
told a b-tch this gang of sh-t, twenty k’s for toppin’ me
i don’t like to rap ’bout guns, i don’t keep no glock on me
i might beat a n-gga -ss and i might stomp out all on his t–th
i been grinding for a minute, n-gga, all i got is me
and my jacket ftp, b-tch ain’t no vlone on my team

[verse 2: auntie aj]
ain’t no hoes up on my team
texas n-gga don’t sip lean
i might slide up on your scene
with p-ssy juice all on my jeans
i’m from the grove, baby
know i gotta keep that thang on me
but you don’t know what i won’t show
i’ll pull it out and i’m gon’ squeeze
bop that n-gga if he sneeze
you know i don’t play no games
when i shoot, don’t even aim
when i aim, i aim for brains
turn that n-gga to a stain
blow his face and take his rank
i go too hard up in the paint
let me chill and smoke this dank
you can’t sit with thd
my n-gga, what you want some fans?
b-tch, you can’t do a song with me
because i only f-ck with gang
i don’t care about your fans
and i don’t care about your name
all i care about is money, p-ssy, weed, like i’m lil wayne
i start my car, roll a blunt
i hit the street, i’m switchin’ lanes
he copped a bar, he tried to stunt
i had to leave that n-gga stained
leave dead and i’m alive
and you can’t do a single thang
i know it’s sad, but it’s okay
n-ggas die like every day
i been laughin’ to the bank
i do sh-t that n-ggas can’t
i’m bendin’ hoes over the sink
she got good brain
but she don’t think
give her bars and watch her faint
i’m rubbin’ hoes, i’m never sane
twelve come in, i’m lookin’ blank
b-tch, i ain’t got sh-t to say

[verse 3: black kray]
i been throwin’ my money like that
got crossed up with ten racks
then i slid off with my slatt
foreign coupe, you know that i’m black
d-mn, you ain’t on that
you can’t correlate with my past
my gang sad but you knew that
young thugs hustle for them racks
corner to corner around the clock
the gang on go, and that’s on top
the gang on go, so that’s on go
and that sh-t is goin’ on
and i’m thinkin’ ’bout goin’ on
come out the bank, my fetty on me
yeah, you know my fetty long
i’m on top and ain’t no stoppin’ that

[verse 4: trippjones]
gang on go, b-tch, you already know
you wanna see me dead like carlito
we x to the o like tic-tac-toe
bring you on, gotta switch that flow
b-tch on d-ck, i know (i know)
i just wanna get that dough (i know)
i don’t say a lot (nah)
i stay to the cold
p-ssy boy, try to take the sauce
like a ravioli
wanna doubt me in the streets?
well you know, i ain’t your homie
peddle the pack then i’ll put it in quick
she said my d-ck on some la gear sh-t
need bread like ellen degeneres, b-tch
need bread like ellen degeneres, b-tch, yeah

[verse 5: la goony chonga]
tryna disrespect me
but i never ever worry
if the money ’round at night
you know i get it in a hurry
get the money, count it out
i’m only worried ’bout the fortunes
on vacations gettin’ paid
i’m f-ckin’ lightin’ up his torches
lgc, baby, came with a clique
ms. oh-my-god-i-go-so-hard
f-ck around, have a b-tch fit
get real p-ssed quick if my cash don’t come in large
i be goin’ in like again and again
on your b-tch wish list, you wanna be my friend
pockets on fat, never cash clampin’
time is money and my time well spent

[verse 6: rozz dyliams]
doctor dylan dealing death
you catch a hot one, catch your breath
i’m off the chiz, i’m all depressed
i’m off the sh-ts and all possessed
i’m pathologic, pimp, and scatalogic
now i’m talking sh-t
and if the price is right i gaslight
and get it while the task scoutin’
i gotta keep a band in my gorilla cut, i convalesce
i coalesce and i converge a virgin merging and invest
roll up in that slab like an autopsy medical session
my profession get the bands and make you nervous without question
f-ck flexing clothes, i pay my friends 500 bucks a month
to keep around like eighty thousand in a safe for when i want it
when i need it, i have superseded those who do not get me
y’all continue, do whatever damage you want to your kidneys

[verse 7: brennen savage]
you can call me santa claus
runnin’ with the sack
i’m posted with a pack
take a loss and make it back
i’ll be blacked out, not maxed out
goin’ dumb from it
pinky to the thumb
i’ma put it in her —–
run off real quick
i’ma ghost me some molly
i got those
i’ma feed you like a host
i got no time if you less than a dime
i got no rhymes for you if you ain’t my slime
let it go

[verse 8: nedarb]
young -ss ned in the club
but i’m feelin’ sneak (feelin’ sneak)
i’m a dad, i feel my family, so she’s feelin’ me (feelin’ me)
psyche, b-tch, i ain’t got no time for f-ckin’ hoes (nah)
shoulda hit me up a year ago was sucking toes (oh my god, rare)
oh sh-t, i ain’t got no time for f-ckin’ rollin’
i feel like marvin g-ye, all i got is f-ckin’ soul (i got soul)
real sh-t, i ain’t goin’ back to where i was (nah)
i was doin’ every f-ckin’ drug with my cuz (cocaine)
i’m the same pretty b-tch, don’t care about no buzz
shout out chavo, you’re the only thing i f-ckin’ love (my baby)
i’m in the club, b-tch, i feel like 50 cent (i’m in the club)
off a fifth of f-ckin’ henny, b-tch, i’m feelin’ bent (i been drinkin’)
i’m sca- uh, ah, oh my god, rare
(do our outro, shout out then our outro)
yo, shout out myself

- nedarb lyrics

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