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Gangsta n*gga
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Yogi
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Baby let's go Got teflon on the chest Steel on the hip You can feel what I spit Because it’s real on the strip n***as grill with their click But then they squeal when they drip See and revel in their chips [?] Tryin' to appeal to the chicks And it [?] with their bricks Big wheels on their whips 'Till I fill clips like a navy seal For the stick 'fore their grip Rubber grip in their grill then I click *coking gun* Peel sh*t to take a n***a off his heels when it hit *gunshot* killed body concealed in the crypt RIP on their headstone for steppin in that red zone See their last breath blown Shots to the chest dome *gunshot* Take smith and wes chrome And never leave that vest home Rounds and rounds be blowing out the pound For real you f**k with me That's how it's going down (for real) I takes no shorts My fort I hold it down Hold on tell me you don't now about my gangsta n***a
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