Gang
Real trim baby, man, brought out them weapons
(LamarcusJ all on the beats now)
Fo' sure (But he ain't livin')
Ayy, you know when you went to the O
These facts (Yeah)
You weren't all 'round
Soon as I walk in that class I smell like reefa
Dope boy swag, I'm fresh than my teacher
No, we can't kick it 'cause this ain't FIFA
And yeah, I ball, but I don't play soccer, yay
What is that stench coming from yo' locker?
Don't worry about that, just stay out of my business
'Posed to be in Mrs. Manning, but I skipped to Mrs. Gilbert
Hold up, let me play calling, let me sneak out the building
Say, go to car, gotta meet 'em at Philly
Bell finna rang, let me get back to Izzy
Supposed to be doing my work, but my fingers be itching
I just can't sit still, gotta hop up and get it
Say, I just get to that green like my first name was ribbit
'Fore I walk back to school, hit the blunt, spray twice
Just smoked a gram, so I gotta get right
Eyes real low and tight
Walk in that class, teacher say, "Boy, you high as kite"
I told Mr. Brent I'm high as a flight
He say, "Just do your work, you'll be alright
I'm thinking, "I'm tryna sneak, shoot dice"
Ayy, ain't talking math, tryna bet on a 6-8
One roll 6's, don't move, that's my pape'
I'm over here eating, I ain't even grab the lunch tray
Hold up, I hear Kevs chains, better dip, there go Miss Drake
Now I buy one, tryna get through the rest of the day, still might catch me a play
I got ear phones in, and there go Miss Hudges, gotta go me a whole 'nother way
Say, I turn the corner, see shawty with shape
Hop down on her, now she got me late
Her boyfriend a athlete, but lil baby like hood guys
I'm from the trenches, but he from the good side
Ayy, ain't tryna cuff, I'ma make her a team player
Hood baby, I don't eat lunch, I'm at Green Acres
Ayy, I dont play, baby, you can ask coach V
Tryna get off this zip before 3
Remember that Cobalt, ridin' 'round four deep
How was you lame in school now you so street?
George, been had the walkie, knew you was gon' be the police
Ayy, but it's cool 'cause he ain't act gangster, get it?
What I'm sayin' just be yourself
Lot of fake, not a lot real left
And I'm one of the last one left
I got class work, paper in my pants right now
Ayy, before you love someone else, you gotta love yourself
I know someone's who was sitting in the class, in the cell
I know someone's who was sitting in class and ain't here
You ain't gotta try to fit in, just be who you is
Patty ending was beefing, for real
If you ain't real, you can't stand next to me
Real n f*** with me, R.I.P. Teddy P
Get that monyun combo, sloppy, with extra cheese
Knew I was gon' get rich, I use to work at Burger King
My partner ain't graduate, but he got a first degree
I hove the spot much I got my bachelors
I ain't play football, but that pack, I'ma tackle it
In the field house, I'm slamming like wrestling
Girl Scout cookies have you gasping
I'm talking white owls and swishers, no backwoods and zaza
I know you high if you hopped out of my car
I play Guitar Hero, knew I was a Rockstar
You mix black with that 'act, no wock', wock'
Webby's, Boosie's, Dickies, Coogie's, and I can't forget 'bout the Reeboks
Say, I can forget 'bout the all white sneakers
Walk in the hall, but I'm fly as a eagle
'Member, we was clowning, me and Demetrius
Know you can't stand me, so sit in the bleachers, p
Been had that fire, you can ask Mr. Guns
My homie ain't play sports, but he on the run
My partner ain't play band, but he had a drum
This stick make you break dance, this one of them ones
Ayy, I can't forget, we was thuggin' in Scott's class
My pockets was thin, but now I got thot pants
I hit the bud, take you home
The glizzy a iPad, that in just in case lil' buddy want act bad
Know these lil' boys show out for these females
Better stop 'fore I send some' to your email
She say, "Yay", but you ain't none' with that sh** on you
It's Friday, she acting like Ezell
That P stand for pussy, boy, you ain't no player
At his neck like a turtle, better go in your shell
Got my wrist in the pot like I'm staring Rotell
You better keep you a AK or you gon' fail
I can't get caught skippin', I'm slicker than jell
'Fore you get you a ring, you gon' take you some L's
If that phone keep ringing, then I'm doing well
I can't get off the zip, I got saved by the bell
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
