a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

quaqua - stain gang lyrics

my n-ggas with the sh-ts, my n-ggas they ’bout that life
my n-ggas shoot sh-t, my n-ggas they toting them pipes
these hoes on our d-ck, these hoes wanna be our wives
but we don’t love these hoes, they good for just one night x2

[verse 1: lil chief]

p-ssy boy yea im a p-ssy aka i love sta
pull up on your block, 30 shots in gang
yeah, we toting them pipes
keep cool, get money, smoke dope
i live this life
if a n-gga try me, that’s the day he gone meet christ
i’m getting h-lla money, i’m counting all hunnids, i got these bands
all these d-mn bands, can’t hold these bands
i need an extra hand
these hoes on my d-ck, these hoes know they my fans
but you can’t f-ck me unless you finna suck my mans (you gotta f-ck bro!)
know a lot wild boys
e.d.e, g.m.e
call up lil mans (squad)
money up them macs, got murder in the cut
they blowing like a fan
if you ain’t talking money, what the f-ck you saying?
i don’t really understand!
that’s why i’m thumbing through a check
it ain’t sh-t to spend these bands!

[hook x2]

[verse 2: jp armani]
(squad!)
(global gang!)
my n-ggas with the sh-ts, my n-ggas stay with them poles
keep my circle small so i know my n-ggas gone blow
these b-tches ain’t worth sh-t, so i can trust no ho
we ain’t worried about no guns, we got sh-t that explode
a opp running down roeblock, leave a n-gga on his nose (man down!)
this 7 block strapped twice, i got n-ggas get you gone
the 40 dirty with the 30 plus is 1 in the dome
your man is boring, pull up in that foreign
yo b-tch, bet she gone (skurt!)
got b-tches kissing, b-tch on the squad we’ll leave yo -ss missing
there with the pistol, do a hit, leave the scene
throw the pump in the river
lay low, smoke dope
they’ll be gone in a minute, sit back tell them boys go get him
don’t aim with the tec cause i know it’s gone hit him
wanna go to war, we got sh-t to blow the whole city
and i’m posted on 7 roeblock, say the city

[hook x2]

[verse 3: l’a capone]
my n-ggas with the sh-ts, everybody off yops all night
go grab that nick
nine times out outta 10 won’t fight (no i won’t fight!)
you ain’t did no hit, i can tell you ain’t took no life! (you ain’t took no lives!)
hit a crib for the racks
and the flats when i gotta get right
knocking n-ggas down my sport
internet goon, but he still on the porch!
i catch a opp lacking then he gone get torched
we the mustang gang, can’t run from a horse
we don’t give a f-ck, shoot him in the airport
we don’t give a f-ck, leave him on the back porch
we don’t give a f-ck if his mom and his dad looking sad
too bad we still gone torch!
600, we holding up
i don’t think n-ggas wanna blow at us!
in the foreign riding fast
just me and cuz!
otf, o’block they roll with us! (six hunna!)
and we toasted up
riding through the drive and we posted up
and the party get loud when we showing up
i be high as f-ck!
but the hoes on me and they feel that pole on me
i’m just in my raybans tryna see what i could see
and my goon keep heat so he won’t go sweet!
double-0 be the squad, swear to god double-0 go hard!
and my n-gga lil chief, you know bro gone squad!
better keep your piece/peace, cause we stopping the yard
n-ggas stink, like bro did you fart?!
do a drill out the top of the car
popping pills, now i’m staring at the stars
my n-ggas with the sh-ts, we are!

[hook x2]

track 9 on separate myself

7. the gat10. murder

- quaqua lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS