​​gang lyrics

[Intro: Ken Carson]
Yeah
Yeah (Ha, ha, ha)
Yeah

[Verse 1: Ken Carson]
I ain't got no friends
I'm posted with the gang, you a lame, you can't get in
I love my n*ggas, they my gang
Hell nah, they ain't got no friends
He just pop pills and sip drank
He'll never be like Ken
I took a hundred out the bank and I put it on your mans
He ain't got nothin' in the bank, he broke as f*ck, look at his pants
Got like four mil' for my advance
I ride around town with a b*tch from France
I do what I want, you do what you can
I do what you don't, 'cause I got them bands
If you ain't talkin' money I can't hear what you sayin'

[Verse 2: Lil Tecca]
Do what I do, don't care what you sayin'
My life is a movie, livin' on demand
I been that n*gga, but now I'm the man
Saw n*ggas switched up, took a different stance
I seen the racks and took a second glance
How you move funny and f*ck up a chance?
I know she gon' do it for you, but I bet the bands finna make her dance
Showin' no effort, I already know it
Feel like I'm Sosa, already glowin'
Chill with the ones, b*tch, we so chosen
East to the West, I be still coastin'
I might just hit this b*tch, then I be ghostin'
They doin' the most, I ain't tryna be noticed
Don't f*ck with these n*ggas, "bro" that, "bro" this
You don't even got that, bought that, sold this
[Verse 3: Destroy Lonely]
Yeah
I just hopped off my motherf*ckin' flight, yeah
I'm scrollin' on my f*ckin' phone, yeah
I'm thinkin' what ho I'ma try, yeah
I just pulled up to my telly, b*tch, and now I'm finna get high, yeah
I just hit that lil' bad-ass b*tch, but I can't make her mine, yeah
You n*ggas pull up and try this sh*t, I swear to God they die, yeah
Racks in, but I spent all that sh*t, on me Number (N)ine, yeah
YSL my jeans, lil' b*tch, yes, I get stupid fly, yeah
When I touchdown on the East, b*tch, yeah, we play with them Five's, yeah
b*tch, I'm with my guys, woah, b*tch, I'm way too fried, yeah
b*tch, I'm way too high, can't eat, lil' b*tch, I order fries, yeah
These n*ggas, they fake as f*ck, yeah, they just in disguise, yeah
And these n*ggas don't make enough to go to war with I

[Verse 4: Ken Carson]
These n*ggas don't make enough
Boy, I know your life real tough
I'm chasin' that bag, I'm countin' it up
I ain't gotta brag you know what's up
Boy, look at the tag my b*tch ran up
I just dropped a bag on me and her
These n*ggas be starvin', I'm eatin' up
These n*ggas be sober, I'm geekin' up
You dream about that b*tch, I'm freakin' her
This a Rolls Royce, ain't no Jeep in here
I spot an opp, now I'm creepin' up
Say hello to my Glock, let's meet, good luck
You know how I rock, b*tch, I don't give no f*ck
He mad at my c*ck, 'cause it been in her
He ain't sendin' no drop, 'cause he scared as f*ck
If that boy send the drop, then we tearin' it up
Here, you know that we sprayin' it up
Pass me the ball, b*tch, I'm layin' it up
I swear this sh*t be easy as f*ck
Hit your ho from the back, she was greasy as f*ck
You be claimin' that b*tch, she be eatin' di*k up
You broke and we rich, you can't mingle with us
You say that she yours, but she single with us
I was f*ckin' that b*tch, we was on the tour bus