Tri - Gangsta sh** lyrics

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Tri - Gangsta sh** lyrics

(*talking*) Huh, they gotta feel us on this one right here mayn H-Town to D-Town, bout to mash on these mark a** n***as Feel what I'm saying, gotta respect what's given to you right now Ain't no games getting played, you know who this be n***a a**hole By Nature, Slow Loud And Bangin Better yet relax, I got this [Trae] It's time to bring it to they face, b**h I been a a**hole for life Motherf**ers hollin' out plex, but they don't lace the Nike's Attitude never mistaken, so these b**hes can get it Forty rounds in a clip is like church, I bet you get lifted If you heard about A.B.N., you know these hands is sick I got a bob and a weave game, to leave em stiff as a brick Shepo, Jay'Ton, Dub, Boss and Rick Plus the other hundred and twenty, who stay ready to click Shot what these n***as talking, like they ready for drama I shut em up and have they folk signing, bout old as they mama I got my homies Tri and Tae, packing K's for Trae Unless I tell em pop the trunk, so I can get it and spray I represent it for the hood, but anybody can get it And if they heard about the Maab, I bet they don't wanna get with it Slow Loud when I bang, so I rep for Screw For all my dogs and the Bloods, and my cousin Blue [Hook: Tae] This to all my hustlers ballers, all the shot callers Range up, and open place And if you see a b**h n***a, thinking that he's slick Never hesitate, to put him in his place See this is some gangsta sh** Trae and Tae hitting, with a gangsta click S.L.A.B. what it do, y'all respect this sh** Making moves on 45, get it how we live it it's our time to shine hey [Boss] All b**h n***as, better shake the spot So many C's in my handshaking, look like a zip-lock I put a H in front of the C, call it Hoover Crip hopping 0-5, all the lil' homies call ruger grip Glocks I know it sounds crazy, when n***as use to k**ing cops They been hara**ing our homies, and they thrashing the block But I got love for the homies, so I'm pa**ing a chop Pa** the corner and double back, then I blast at the flock Do em more dug than a shovel, filling bags up with cops I'm in a six tre rag, and b**h it drag when it drop 13's and I drive em, soak up my rag it ain't sock I keep a 4-4 mag, and when I'm mad b**h it pop I mean it crack, I keep a new flag in the Lac Eight placks to the back, fresh set of them cats Hat to the left back, big Crip in the pack See me throwing up my set, steady Cripping the mat cuz [Hook] [Tri] Been real off top, cause 200 Clan be the god damn block Real what I am, and the sh** won't stop Haters they plot, want it with me not Make your body drop, one blow one shot Tri in this b**h, and the clip's what I claim A.K.A. Yellow Dame, hot as fire spitting flame Recognize 'fore I came, no lie untamed What these n***as trying to bring, ain't nothing ain't a thang Got k**ers in the clip, got k**ers in the grove Got k**ers in the North, and the South slow your roll 'Fore you end up knocked off, wanna play me for soft b**h a** gon get lost, in a river pay the cost What you wanna do Blood, chill out or get drug Peel out or get plugged, p**y n***a what the f** Yeah I might be small, but I got a lot of clout Representing out the South, hold your tongue watch your mouth [Hook] (*talking*) If that ain't, self explanatory right there These marks gotta understand, it's real in the field Can't put another fo' motherf**ers together, that's gon shut sh** down like this b**h a** n***a need to go back to they pen and pad, and rewrite they sh** We do sh** like this, everyday all day mayn a**hole By Nature, G-Maab Entertainment You know I'm saying it go down, Southside's finest Ay you know I respect that D-Town, I gotta shout out Oak Cliff All the rest of the hood, you know it's Southwest over here homie for real