CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Get Down Gang

(That's some Krishtall)

Ayy, bust it out the wrapper, four way or better (Four way)
I can show you how to run up some cheddar (Some money)
Mini AR on the dresser
Screamin', "1Klan," while I stretch your old lady, aggressive
Know I'm a big trendsetter
Mask up, put a boy on the stretcher (On the stretcher)
Packs in, I'm smoking on pressure (On pressure)
Bad bitch with me, gon' do what I tell her

Too young and ruthless, so n***as don't fuck with me (Don't fuck with me), I'm still good where you n***as can't post up (Can't post up)
You ain't on shit, n***a, stop gettin' your hope up (Huh?)
Give me a reason, somebody gettin' tore up (Gettin' tore up)
Dolce Gabbana and Louis, I'm mixin' shit up just to pop on a bitch when I show up
Money and guns, we too influenced
Walk on the beat, but I step on your son
It ain't no rules, we fuck over you, catch your ass out of bounds, shoot you and the ref' (Murder one)
Glock 26 with a switch in my belt (Cash, grrt)
Gon' flash when I up off the side of my hip
I got more bullets than Brady
Mask up on a boy like Jason (Like Jason)
Run down, I don't really got patience (No patience)
I'm tryna get closer, put somethin' on the pavement, bah
Ayy, woah (Woah), all this drank, boy, I better not cough (No coughin')
Had the condom and still went raw (Went raw)
Hold slow when I fuck, I'll spit in her mouth (Pew, pew)
In the trap, go pound for pound (Pound)
Miss a play, gotta get back in town (Like Vegas)
Dirty thirty my everyday carry, I'm ready to up and put somethin' in the ground (I stamp it)
Better smile when you see me, don't frown (Don't frown, boy)
Clique up, I'ma shoot up your crowd (Get down, boy)
Gang members on go, no yap (No yap)
Walk down, I ain't shootin' no house (I stamp it)
Hit his ho, say I fuck on her better
I got me a trap bitch, I nicknamed her Griselda
All the opps respect me like an elder
Hit that fire, it gon' chomp on his foot, bitch, I'm somethin' like a welder
On my mama, we shoot out wherever
My guy shoot YSL like a Tesla
Figure four this lil' ho like a wrestler
Hit lil' Lana off Percs, I'll love her and still never text her
Diamonds hit on my neck and my chest and my lip and my wrist
Got shot in his month, it left him with a lisp
Drop a bag on his ass and put one on his bitch
I be ready to shoot, grab my gun while I shit
I got some shit that I know they ain't ready for, catch him lackin', wrap him like a gift
Broke the spring when I tried to put too many up in the clip
Taught my new Drac' gymnastics, watch him do a flip
My big brother a Blood, but his pockets on Crip (Hold on, hold on, hold on)
Spin with a brand new stick, watch it sit off the rip
Grab a switch, get to swingin' that bitch like a whip