Dan Ton Lebra - SS gang

(Have you ever been to London?) Ayy, yeah (squat made the beat) Don't you, don't you hate a-? Oh Ayy, oh, save a hoe Yeah, ayy Don't you hate an ol' tricking ass? Talking 'bout he in the kitchen ass Get a bag, nigga, why you out here with your leeching ass? Reaching ass nigga, in my DMs tryna, eat my ass Freaky ass nigga, ol' peewee ass nigga Ayy, what type of nigga wear his homeboy shirt? In his baby mama crib, riding his baby mama whip Man, what type of nigga tell lies on his dick? Always running to the 'Gram every time he hit a lick Yeah 95 percent of this niggas fake rich The other five percent of this niggas, all bitch Like Too Short said, bitches ain't shit Ooh, 50 niggas in the section, pushing hoes down (yeah) Sharin' bottles, smokin' hookah, they the hoes now (yeah) Know your pussy, I can smell it, pull your clothes down Store-runner, fake stepper, he a whole clown (yeah) What type of nigga spends the night with his boys? You a grown ass man, you a dyke to your boys Same type of nigga booking flights with his boys In the club taking pictures, making bad bitch noise Don't you hate a ol' tricking ass? Talking 'bout he in the kitchen ass Get a bag, nigga, why you out here with yo' leeching ass? Reaching ass nigga, in my DMs tryna eat my ass Freaky ass nigga, ol' peewee ass nigga Ayy, what type of nigga wear his homeboy shirt? In his baby mama crib, riding his baby mama whip Man, what type of nigga tell lies on his dick? Always running to the 'gram every he hit a lick How you online claimin' bodies all your niggas gettin' touched? Whole gang outside, still got your chain took Steady snitching on the 'gram, made the fed's pick you up At the gas station tryna holla, please, leave me alone How you dead broke, not a dollar, but got three phones? Tryna figure out why you flexing? Riding in that loan Your hairline ain't even long, nigga, keep your hat on (yeah) What type of nigga beg a rapper for a pic'? In a section full of bitches, but ain't tryna fuck shit You too excited for these niggas, even got the same fit Buying watches for your boys, but you say you ain't a trick Don't you hate a ol' tricking ass? Talking 'bout he in the kitchen ass Get a bag, nigga, why you out here with yo' leeching ass? Reaching ass nigga, in my DMs tryna eat my ass Freaky ass nigga, ol' peewee ass nigga Ayy, what type of nigga wear his homeboy shirt? In his baby mama crib, riding his baby mama whip Man, what type of nigga tell lies on his dick? Always running to the 'gram every time he hit a lick What type of nigga wear his homeboy shirt? In his, baby mama crib, riding his baby mama whip What, what, what type of nigga tell lies on his dick? Always running to the 'gram every time he hit a lick

Would you, ooh? Would you, ooh? Hey, I know this might sound weird to say But would you love me if I ran away? (Away) I know you probably think I'm insane Ain't nothin' change but the pocket change (Pocket change) I know they gotta feel my pain (Feel it) I make them birds Lauryn Hill sang (Brr) And everywhere I go they know my name (And what you claim?) 'Cause I be reppin' gang gang (Gang gang) Posted with the gang gang (Gang gang) Pull up with the gang gang (Gang gang) Suit up with the gang gang (Gang gang) I be reppin' gang gang (Gang gang) I shoot with the gang gang (Gang gang) Bang with the gang gang (Gang gang) Ride out with the gang gang (Gang gang) Always rep' the gang gang Always rep' the gang, gang, gang, gang (Gang) Always rep' the gang, gang, gang, gang Whole lotta gang shit, gang, gang, gang (Gang) Whole lotta gang shit ay, gang, gang, gang, yeah She froze up when that ghost came (Ghost came) Big body rolls, it be hoggin' up both lanes (Both lanes) She lift her nose up when she want that cocaine (Cocaine) I lift my doors up the Lambo', take propane (Propane) After my show we put hoes in the chokehold (Chokehold) At the door, we take cell phones, no photos Money comin' in too much I can't hold, truckload I'm hot, I can't be trappin' in the streets, that what the plug for And all I want is nachos And all I want is Huncho (Huncho) Pulls strings like a banjo (Banjo) And the keys a piano (Piano) Take me back to the back door (Back door) I can see my foot on a door knob Make it back to the gang, that's the whole job Chop it up and just talk about what we got (Whatcha got? Whatcha got? Whatcha got?) Whippin' that Draco (Cold, brr) She said she love me But that's somethin' we'll never know (Never know) Honestly, that's somethin' I really wanna know (Wanna know) Ain't tryna waste my time, it's time to let you go (Let you go) And get back to that back end on the road I can't go out sad about a hoe (Hell no) Married to the money, I propose Always rep' the gang, gang, gang, gang Suit up with the gang gang Always rep' the gang, gang, gang, gang I be reppin' gang gang Whole lotta gang shit, gang, gang, gang Hit her with that gang gang Whole lotta gang shit, gang, gang, gang Always reppin' gang gang