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作词 : Durk Banks/Maliki Decampos/Devonte Richmond/Lontrell Williams
作曲 : Durk Banks/Devonte Richmond/Maliki Decampos
DJ FMCT
Ayy, they told me I can't be around no gang members
Y'all got me ****ed up, nigga
I go everywhere with my killers, man
DJ Bandz, oh, man
[Verse 1: Lil Durk & Pooh Shiesty]
Throw that mask on, when you jump out first you better blast (Yeah)
We don't like slow shit, on hits, them switchers (Frrt) fast (Gang)
Ain't gon lie, the city haul with strikers, they don't last (Turn up)
When you poppin' with your killers, you better check your guys (Man, what)
We don't party on other blocks, they **** with other opps (Let's get it)
Then come 'round like you gang, that got your brother shot (Brrah)
Then leave him hangin' without a lawyer, that shit dumb as **** (Pussy)
You come outside without your gun, lil' boy, you dumb as **** (Dumb as ****)
Ain't no quick run to the store, they pop out, fire you up (Brrah)
I told my PO through the gate that I get high as **** (I get high as ****)
She ask me how high do I get, I told her high as Duck (Tooka)
My brother told me get some property, I kept gettin' Glockies (Gettin' Glocks)
I told him I only drink wocky, he say I'm gettin cocky (Let's get it)
All them bitches wanna **** me, I don't give them money
One bitch thought I told her, "Yeah," I said, "You better block me"
You think he off a eight or red the way that nigga noddin'?
He don't even know 'bout drugs, he sell lean, OxyContin
You tryna judge him off his looks, that lil' boy Ashley Robin
Man, he talkin' 'bout gang in this bitch (Why he callin', talkin' 'bout gang?)
He ain't get back from that one shit, man his gang ain't on shit
'Fonem posted up outside, Dracos hanging and shit
Before he died, his ass a goofy, now he famous and shit (Brrr, brrr, brrr)
I'm King Draco, got my name off drilling, check the record, bitch (Slatt, slatt, slatt, slatt)
Send off a bag 'bout my lil' cousin, they fakin', they'll call the quits
They made me mad enough, I spin through there myself, say the wrong shit
Might still sip when I get low, but I prefer Wock over trip
****ed up and let me in the door, I went fully on auto sticks
I'm Mr. Slime 'Em Out, I caught his backdoor, unlocked on the lick
Or Mr. Leave No Evidence, know my criminal book hella thick (On God)
You niggas goose, ain't got no gun
You went away, your ass is dumb
I'm on my sixth Moncler this winter, I couldn't wait to get some money
My lil' nigga up four souls, he caught two dressed up like a junkie
They thought I was just rappin'
Lately, murder gang, that shit ain't funny
I'm locked in with hunters, from the God, got killers 'round the country
I might don't need to slime 'em out, just be yourself and stay 300
My clique tied up in the field, won't never hear me go out runnin'
Post up a pic like I'm in LA, but the whole time I'm with gun
We ain't tryna keep hearin' 'bout that shit you did, go get active again
Three and O, we skunkin' shit, get one more kill, conceal the win
Beef with us, won't never land 'till y'all get hit up with them pens
We caught one of them pussies drunk, he died before he dropped the hint
Got 'bout ten whips in my garage and still don't know what to get in
Take all the embers out the cat, tint out the window 'fore I spin (Shh, brrr, tint out the window 'fore I spin, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)
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