22Gz, Balenci, Jah Floxks and Saint Laurent Sour - GTA
(Ghosty)
Gang, gang, gang
Hahahahaha
Grrt
Bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah
Gang
I'm the collector (said that)
They ain't give me my credit, so I'm takin' extra (extra)
He on a stretcher (he on a)
Open his noggin, it's squirtin' like ketchup (ketchup)
Caught him at Checkers
Brodie gone line up for bands like Lester
I ain't no wrestler (gang, gang, gang)
Aimin' for brains, matha fiesta
Suffocate him, stuffin' his face in a zip rack (gang, gang, gang)
Tummy shot, they had to staple that shit back (skrrt-skrrt)
Treesh, she gone bend down, let me hit that
Flee, takin' no check, I'ma dig that (skrrt-skrrt-skrrt)
Opps out, shoot up the block with a four (grrah-grrah)
Babai strip from the top to your toes
Bend down we killed a opp in this ho (gang, gang)
Backed out, he seen the chop and he froze
Youngest in charge
They say 22 the G.O.A.T. (skrrt-skrrt)
I got his treesh
Drivin' the boat
Aimin' for melons
Keep the blick in the coat (gang, gang, gang, gang, gang, gang)
Heard he got smacked
He don't want smoke (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
New drip (new drip)
Your fit where we empty them clips at
Cool kit (bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah, bah)
We shot through his ribs and his six pack (gang, gang)
Big Rug' can fit in my pocket (big Rug')
Two shooters, same names, same noggins (same names)
Switch lanes to famous for stoppin'
Swervin' through traffic, they lackin' we got 'em (got 'em)
Blue tips, green tips for the switch up
Chest shot, leg shot, can't get up
Stomach shot, gooey sauce, he gaspin'
Bullets gonna shatter his bone like a mirror
We spinnin' in threes, we can split up
Dumped in the trunk, leave him slumped in a river
.40 Cal with a stick for the stick up
Gloves on my hands and I'm not with the slip ups
I got the keys
Louis, Balenci', the locksmith
Masked up for deposits and flockings
Spot him chop him up get to dividin'
Been gettin' bands like Micheal
Wear the wrong color on that block I'ma snipe you
Big knocks, homie won't fight you
Kill him in traffic and take the red light too
I ain't really worried, I be posted
Thirty the clip, bullets miss when I load it
I just might up it in public
Shoot at the witnesses skip the discussions
Folks on a mission
Chris in the cut he gonna shoot with precision
Up the passion, the flock and the Smith &
This car too hot, it's a risk if you in it
My shooter he anti-social
Drum on the Glock and it's beatin' like Pro-Tools (flock, flock)
Play with my bread, I'ma toast you
Bustin' these plays and rememberin' socials
Soap Gang, flockin' Adidas
Do you got a Chevy? If not I don't need heer
I got a vibe, a lil' treesha
I call up 22, "She comin' to eat up"
Treesh drink Henny by the liter
He called the stop, I call matha 'quafina
I got the streets from the Nina
She put this Blixk in her throat like a leaf
After she done gotta leave
I gotta pick up the drop for a D
Now shit can get sticky nigga with these Blixky niggas
If he runnin' we gon' flock him down
I can send Ramu to shoot him, he flockin' be warned
Don't stop 'til an opp on the ground (gang)
I'm the collector (said that)
They ain't give me my credit, so I'm takin' extra (extra)
He on a stretcher (he on a)
Open his noggin, it's squirtin' like ketchup (ketchup)
Caught him at Checkers
Brodie gone line up for bands like Lester
I ain't no wrestler (gang, gang, gang)
Aimin' for brains, matha fiesta
I'm the collector (said that)
They ain't give me my credit, so I'm takin' extra (extra)
He on a stretcher (he on a)
Open his noggin, it's squirtin' like ketchup (ketchup)
Caught him at Checkers
Brodie gone line up for bands like Lester
I ain't no wrestler (gang, gang, gang)
Aimin' for brains, matha fiesta
Gang, gang, gang
The Blixky, the Blixky, the Blixky
Written by:
Argam Taj, Bradley Robert Moss, Courtney Scholes, Jahmier Everettt, Jeffrey Alexander
Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics powered by Lyric Find