Its That Gas lyrics

(Young Mike)
b*tch it’s that gas
Whole lotta choppers they be on yo’ ass
I was in the back of the class with the racks and the packs in the bag
Gotta get us on the map
I don’t care about your strap, lil’ boy gettin’ clapped
I be in the trap and I be on my Mac
I don’t care about rap, made a ‘hunnid off packs
Im a real trap hitta get you whacked for a sack

(Lil Med)
I was dead broke I was down on my ass
Nobody believed in the plan that I had
I know them n*ggas be hatin’ they mad
But I get them racks and throw them in a bag
I just be flexin’, you need to relax
What did I do? b*tch I got off my ass
Hop in my whip and I straight did the dash
The plug hit my phone (hе got Ps of the gas)
Told him bring 3, n*gga hurry up fast
Run off on him and I know that he mad
But b*tch I don’t care ‘cus I’m turnt to thе max (said b*tch I don’t care ‘cus I’m turnt to the max)

(Young Mike)
b*tch it’s that gas
Whole lotta choppers they be on yo’ ass
I was in the back of the class with the racks and the packs in the bag
Gotta get us on the map
I don’t care about your strap, lil’ boy gettin’ clapped
I be in the trap and I be on my Mac
I don’t care about rap, made a ‘hunnid off packs
Im a real trap hitta get you whacked for a sack
(Izzy)
I’m a real trap hitta made a ‘hunnid on the streets
Ridin’, catch a play, stuffin racks in my jeans
n*ggas get smoked if they think sh*t sweet
I’ll have a n*gga MIA like he playin’ for the Heat

(Young Mike)
Playin’ with the heat, I ain’t playin’ with my meat
Now I’m aimin’ at your head, I ain’t aimin’ at your feet
I don’t f*ck with the feds, I ain’t never gone speak
I ain’t never had a bed, I ain’t never had sheets

(Izzy)
They ain’t never gave me sh*t, but I went and got it right
Now I’m crashin’ every beat, me, Med, and Young Mike
n*ggas hatin’ on us, turnin’ up on sight
Freestylin’ every beat, swear to God sh*t light

(Young Mike)
Swear to God the sh*t light, like they muhf*ckin’ bag
And I’m really ‘bout to smoke ‘em like some muhf*ckin’ gas
And homie finna poke ‘em but he really not a fag
Yeah I’m a leave him him open, I’m a leave him wit’ a tag

(Izzy)
Ride around swangin’ you can hear my sh*t knockin’
I ain’t f*ck your hoe but I passed her like Stockton
Me and Mo was ridin’ flippin’ packs for the profit
n*ggas really b*tches they just all of the gossip
I was locked up I was still catchin’ sales
n*ggas know my name hold weight like scale
I called the plug up and told him bring a ‘hunnid Ps
I gotta show these n*ggas who got real clientele
(Young Mike)
b*tch it’s that gas
Whole lotta choppers they be on yo’ ass
I was in the back of the class with the racks and the packs in the bag
Gotta get us on the map
I don’t care about your strap, lil’ boy gettin’ clapped
I be in the trap and I be on my Mac
I don’t care about rap, made a ‘hunnid off packs
Im a real trap hitta get you whacked for a sack