Song Lyrics

[Chorus]
Mo B. Dick

We Gangstafied (Yes you know, yes you know ,yes you know)
We Gangstafied (This is for the real tru Gangstas)
We Gangstafied (Yes you know indeed)
We Gangstafied

[Kane]
Wasn't never no Mama I want to sing
It was mamma I want to slang
So I can show off my gold chain, gold ring
Roll through the hood on them gold thangs
Now it's world war 3 in them streets
Ain't gone never have enough police
Picture I relax, relate, release
Like this all my homies rest in peace
Disrespect this, put you in the mix
Whopping out that tec grip
Running through your click like busting on you like death wish
Spinning your head like the exorcist
(*Smack*) that's a death kiss
Viscious, foaming at the mouth like rabies
Ain't no good cause in my hood we was doing bad like crack babies
(Scandalous) Like Robin Givens
(And dangersous) Dead that's how we living
Shiesty, like ganking the offering up out the church.
Putting in work spitting game on your Boo
Like when that rem and hennessy got me hurt
I'm tru
Taking everything you got with that infared dot on your knot
Down South Hustlers got on lock, with that J-L-O-see on cock
Gangstafied like them chain gangs in the Pen
P-H at your own risk, cause fool to the tip you'll be gone with the wind
Playa

[Chorus]
[Master P]
Time to chop some game with the ballers
It ain't about slanging keys flippin half ounces to quarters
When the Task hit that mean time to throw ya rocks
My little patner got 25 years for 2 rocks.
My block be crazy my homey pushing dasies
Never had a chance to see his unborn baby
Ain't that sad black rolling in the cadillac
4, 15 woofers bumping behind I'm hitting him in the back
Dead, who gives a damn cause when you gone
Ain't no coming back to my homies that dead and gone 2 stones
Label me a thug like Pac,
Cause I done got the world hooked on ice cream I mean these gangsta rocks
I'm slanging these tapes we banging
Steady hanging on the block
Keep product in my socks ready to rock
Open up shop cause it all good (all good)
Mr. Ice Cream Man or call me Mr. Rogers of the neighborhood
I'm bout it, rowdy, gangstafied

[Chorus]

[Abel]
It wasn't never no Mama I want to sing
Down here it's mama I want to gang bang
Wearing that red and blue start lying
Toting those 9's, even throwing up signs
No peace,
Got nothing live for, Deceased
By the hands of that 4-4 (Clack Clack)
Pull the hammer back (That the last)
Live fast and watch them die slow
You know I really want to say is that they don't car about soldiers
Falling asleep behind the whell in the Range Rover
Can't remember the last time I was sober
(Whoop Whoop) that's the Po Pos
Gotta watch those,
The got some nerve talking bout the supposed to protect and serve
Took my money and my herb
Every player that on my team got a laser beam
Knock your head off, steal your dream
Not first you sure, ain't nutting nice serving fiends ain't what it seems
What the south about, big money, big guns and those big booties
I be that soldier you looking at that, judging me
While you do you jury duty
I put my hands on my bruh and we still live
Cause No limit soldiers survive gangstafied

[Mo B. Dick]
Soooooo, sooooo, soooo, Gangstafied

[Chorus x 3]

Jeffrey B. Atkins, Andre S. Parker, Irving Domingo Lorenzo, Tiheem Crocker, Tiffany Lane