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soulja boy – on gang lyrics

[verse 1: soulja boy]
young draco ain’t gon play bout them racks, bout them stacks
call up my plug, where the f+ck them packs at?
call up my shooters, where the f+ck them straps at?
can’t talk on the phone, cause i know 12 been tapped that
i got a hundred fifty racks in my backpack
n+gga think it’s sweet, but on my mama i’m gon [?] that
hit him witht the chopper cause he was asking for that
you wanna [?] imma tax him for that
i’m skirting round with them racks
ak 47 came with a shoulder strap
[?] 2010
choppers and bmw in the benz
[?] murk your best friend
stand in the kitchen, i whip up a ten
young draco, i trap out the dope hole
my trap jumpin like a yo yo
oo young n+gga trap with a [?]
try the funny sh+t, get hit with the draco

[verse 2: omb bloodbath]
i cannot trust a soul
watching my reer view, [?]
b+tch i be [?] like i’m from the four
imma big blood [?] nose
what was you thinking bout?
[?] demans out
n+gga we just had bought nemons out
[?] we squeezing bout
[?] on the chain
n+gga play gang, then we busting your brain
i been asleep, i was stuck on the drank
put him to sleep, tryna f+ck with the gang
[verse 3: sauce brazy]
[?] got paint by the lieder
ride in the herse, i be k!lling these n+ggas
like a fauset, i be drippin, lil b+tch
ride with the stick cause sh+t can get [?]
my k!llers deadly, riding around with the [?]
[?] my n+ggas [?]
mansion in the hills, no neighbors
that’s living, pour up the lean when i get in my feelings
double cup muddy, i’m sippin on red
[?] rap money, then put it on your head
i remember i was busting down spread
now i ride around in a big body benz
two foreign hoes, f+ck her and her friend
riding with draco with the draco, lord forgive me, yeah he know that i sin
hop out, and i k!ll you and your friend

[verse 4: peso peso]
[?] put the glock to your chin
[?] bentley what i’m sliding in
glasses on me, these versace lenses
you dn’t want no problems, i came from the bottom
[?]
don’t make me throw you in the grave
we trappin, never had a day job
i’m selling them p’s out a racecar
i scoot up, and i shoot your face off
i splash and i drip when i walk in the bank
my diamonds more wet than a motherf+cking lake
i’m in the trap wearing two tone
i break a b+tch, i don’t do no dates
all of these racks, i be feeling like chapo
[?]
i sware that you don’t wanna f+ck with [?]
splash up on you, and we knock out your taco
[verse 5: yung saint louis]
[?]
[?] like tyson
don’t got no racks, we can’t talk about prices
[?] feel like fighting
i’m always ready
keep a stick, my thoughts is deadly
two grams of that molly, i’m rolling heavy
just ran through a hundred, i’m getting sweaty
this b+tch that i’m toating spit 50 shots
f+ck all the opps, we spin any block
[?] glock
if i don’t know him [?] up on the spot
we shoot up [?] at every spot
they don’t play with my name, they better noti be shippin packs, we be selling out
that n+gga a b+tch, he’ll sell you out

[verse 6: murdah baby]
know that it’s blood in this b+tch
know we gon trap out the mansion
watch my diamonds, they dancing
we toating sticks in the wraith
tell you you a b+tch to your face
[?] that case
kicking in doors and running in houses
[?] thousands
bad b+tch, i call her [?]
i got rich off a one way
flew your b+tch out on a one way
she wanna stay, but i made her go anyway
i got some stories and some times where i made it snow
i was selling work to make it to my last show
we was sippin ac, we ain’t know what we was sippin on
we was red rag sliding, [?]
[?] that’s what you trippin on

- soulja boy lyrics

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