[Verse 1: Hollygrove Keem]
Meet me at the finish line
I done hit your b*tch too many times, she telling plenty lies
Trillest out, go and ask around who got the city locked
I don’t dance, I get in the pus*y and I diddy bop
It’s ridiculous how these pus*y n*ggas be hating us
Running bands up, countin’ money, getting paper cuts, yup
I’m chasing that bag, that’s of course
I need something foreign ho, she got an ass like a horse
Look that sh*t worth 200, in something you can’t afford
I ain’t really into stunting, I just do that when I’m bored
Take your b*tch, put her in the condo, make her do the splits
On the di*k, yeah I’m too legit, chain cost a brick
In the club wyling with my clique, mobbing in this b*tch
Brody missed him with the handgun but got him with the stick
Either get down or you lay down, that’s the options you can get
Cool n*gga but my hitters with the sh*ts
Boy I’m really with the gang, hey
n*ggas always on some other time
But they dead broke, I got money on the other line
I put two fives in the bed, that’s a f*cking dime
Don’t let rumors go up to your head, that’s a f*cking lie
Go and ask your b*tch, she say I’m f*cking fly
Energizer bunny ‘cause I f*ck a lot
I been hating coppers since they ran up in my f*cking spot
I was just a youngin but they took away my f*cking pops
[Hook: Hollygrove Keem]
Gang
n*gga every time you see me, know I’m with the gang
I ain’t really tripping, n*ggas know I’m with the gang
I, n*ggas know, n*ggas know I’m with the gang
Live life but we happy though
f*ck around, n*gga bury you
b*tch I’m with the gang
[Verse 2: Jay Jones]
Just give me the word and we gon’ chalk ‘em up
Draw ‘em up, got b*tches and hitters with status
Run in your script with them ladders
All of my n*ggas too savage, all of these n*ggas is actors
All of these b*tches is basic, none of these n*ggas is factors
You the type of n*gga worry ‘bout your followers
Them n*ggas not with us, they imitating, tryna copy us
Body for a body, kill a squad before they body us
And for the gang I bang, f*ck around and shoot the coppers up
Gang in this b*tch, got my gang in this b*tch
My lil shooter f*ck around and take your chain in this b*tch
I’m in V-Live with BTY, we make it rain in this b*tch
Them n*ggas probably got a name in this b*tch
But they ain’t f*cking with the gang
[Verse 3: BTY Young’N]
Got all this ice around my neck like I ain’t dodging cold cases
Played the hand I was dealt, split him like a pair of aces
I remember when the b*tches used to say I need some braces
Til I pulled up in that foreign, should’ve saw them b*tches’ faces
Mix a lot, I tie my laces, patience, my chopper long
I bring that beef to a n*gga’s front door like Papa John’s
These n*ggas know I blow that paper, I ain’t talking Easy-Y
So when they see me they be screaming girl there go BTY
These n*ggas, they want see me die
Got plenty shooters, plenty guys
Them bullets burn, make a shrimp out anything like [?]
Shawty took me on a trip, yeah a trip to little Haiti
She said to meet her half way, I told her b*tch I ain’t have fetty
I be riding through my city with that stick
Screaming yolo, by myself
On the low-low just like Ralph
On the polo
In this b*tch already c*cky
‘bout my cake like Betty Crocker
Diamonds yellow, they like hey wassup hello like Fetty Wap
And they say they gon’ murder who?
Got 32 in my extendo
Multiply it times two
That’s 64, ain’t no Nintendo
Poppin’ pills, smoking endo
Those pistols go bang bang
Don’t matter if I’m by myself or with the gang gang