Song Lyrics

It's Koncept P, the beat knockin'

You can look me in my eyes, you can see the anger
I got murder on my mind when I fill the chamber
Yeah, grab the stick, grab the stick, hit and stank 'em
I'm gon' road kill a bitch, you know I'm gon' stank 'em
Yeah, the opps be talkin' shit, but they know what we be bout
I'm-I'm gon' park down the street and wait for him to walk out
40-40 Glock, extendo, fist fight, gun play
I told lit Yoshi hit 'em in the face 'cause that's the best way

(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know that we be slidin' (slidin')
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know your niggas dying (dying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) yeah, we got your mama crying (crying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and that's on gang, bitch we slidin' (that's on gang, bitch)

(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know that we be slidin' (slidin')
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know your niggas dying (dying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) yeah, we got your mama crying (crying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and that's on gang, bitch we slidin'

I got a bunch of grandma killers hoppin' out these tinted rentals (bow, bow, bow)
Hollows rippin' through your wooded house, tryna give you splinters (grr)
F*ck with me and you gon' lay, and I don't speak about no beef (I swear to god)
I drop a bag on your head, and that's how my niggas eat (blatt)
I shot 'em with my left hand, but I'm better with the right (better with the right)
Yeah, free the landlord, get you rolled off with a kite
He had dissed me on the 'Gram, my niggas asking what's the price (ah)
You never know how we be comin', might just slide on a bike (grr)

(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know that we be slidin' (slidin')
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know your niggas dying (dying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) yeah, we got your mama crying (crying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and that's on gang, bitch we slidin' (that's on gang, bitch)

(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know that we be slidin' (slidin')
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and you know your niggas dying (dying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) yeah, we got your mama crying (crying)
(Blatt, pow, pow, pow) and that's on gang, bitch we slidin'

(And you know that we be slidin')
(And you know your niggas dying)
(Yeah, we got your mama crying)
(And that's on gang, bitch we slidin')
That's on gang, bitch

Fredrick Givens