On Gang - Soulja Boy

Young Draco ain’t gon play bout them racks, bout them stacks

Call up my plug, where the fuck them packs at?

Call up my shooters, where the fuck them straps at?

Can’t talk on the phone, cause I know 12 been tapped that

I got a hundred fifty racks in my backpack

Nigga think it’s sweet, but on my mama I’m gon that

Hit him witht the chopper cause he was asking for that

You wanna Imma tax him for that

I’m skirting round with them racks

AK 47 came with a shoulder strap

Choppers and BMW in the Benz

murk your best friend

Stand in the kitchen, I whip up a ten

Young Draco, I trap out the dope hole

My trap jumpin like a yo yo

Oo young nigga trap with a

Try the funny shit, get hit with the draco

I cannot trust a soul

Watching my reer view,

Bitch I be like I’m from the four

Imma big blood nose

What was you thinking bout?

demans out

Nigga we just had bought Nemons out

we squeezing bout

on the chain

Nigga play gang, then we busting your brain

I been asleep, I was stuck on the drank

Put him to sleep, tryna fuck with the gang

got paint by the lieder

Ride in the herse, I be killing these niggas

Like a fauset, i be drippin, lil bitch

Ride with the stick cause shit can get

My killers deadly, riding around with the

my niggas

Mansion in the hills, no neighbors

That’s living, pour up the lean when I get in my feelings

Double cup muddy, I’m sippin on red

rap money, then put it on your head

I remember I was busting down spread

Now I ride around in a big body Benz

Two foreign hoes, fuck her and her friend

Riding with Draco with the draco, lord forgive me, yeah he know that I sin

Hop out, and I kill you and your friend

put the Glock to your chin

Bentley what I’m sliding in

Glasses on me, these Versace lenses

You dn’t want no problems, I came from the bottom

Don’t make me throw you in the grave

We trappin, never had a day job

I’m selling them P’s out a racecar

I scoot up, and I shoot your face off

I splash and I drip when I walk in the bank

My diamonds more wet than a motherfucking lake

I’m in the trap wearing two tone

I break a bitch, I don’t do no dates

All of these racks, I be feeling like Chapo

I sware that you don’t wanna fuck with

Splash up on you, and we knock out your taco

like Tyson

Don’t got no racks, we can’t talk about prices

feel like fighting

I’m always ready

Keep a stick, my thoughts is deadly

Two grams of that Molly, I’m rolling heavy

Just ran through a hundred, I’m getting sweaty

This bitch that I’m toating spit 50 shots

Fuck all the opps, we spin any block

Glock

If I don’t know him up on the spot

We shoot up at every spot

They don’t play with my name, they better notI be shippin packs,

we be selling out

That nigga a bitch, he’ll sell you out

Know that it’s blood in this bitch

Know we gon trap out the mansion

Watch my diamonds, they dancing

We toating sticks in the Wraith

Tell you you a bitch to your face

that case

Kicking in doors and running in houses

thousands

Bad bitch, I call her

I got rich off a one way

Flew your bitch out on a one way

She wanna stay, but I made her go anyway

I got some stories and some times where I made it snow

I was selling work to make it to my last show

We was sippin Ac, we ain’t know what we was sippin on

We was red rag sliding,

that’s what you trippin on