Gangsta Sh*t Songtext / Lyric

Some of that uh, ltd lincoln town car

Some of that el dorado funk, know what im talking about






Gangsta shit, you know, lay back, cool out, yeah

You know we keep it crunk around here, a-town style

Getting head on the highways yeah, but this what i wanna know

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Outkast, goodie mob and the dungeon click

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Do you really wanna know about some gangsta shit

Dirty south nigga we straight gangsta pimps

O-u-t-k-a-s-t, o-n-p, g-o-o-d-i-e, so fresh so clean

Back with stankona, dungeon family

Pearl cadillac on dics adn vogues, flip flops, t-shirts and dickies

Its the return of billy ocean, cuervo is my drink

Stank, stank means you got the funkiest, dopest heat on the street

Three g ski, slimm, big boi and ths is c b-o-n-e

If you need some back-up find jerome,

Ya girl gonna give you grief at home

Just tell these hoez wanna be on the same team that shes layin on

Dope boys in the trap like to stack the dough

When beef come areound cant let it go

When my funds turn legit im gonna let you know

Ridin rims real good down old national

Its trappable, two bed, jacuzzi bath, its natural

Puttin cheese in ya stash, un-taxable futhermuckers get mad

Steady watching myself, got eyes in my back

Dont take no slack, when you managing the trap

If you work out, gotta get it right back

I trap by day boy, rap by night,

C-bone in this bitch college park trump tight

Im pimp tight, give a fuck, niggaz know whats up

Its t-mo and outkast in the back of my truck

We gotta simple little problem that we got to solve

It like it aint about the money, we got to handle the job

No colors or rags, just guns and masks

We not scared to blast and dip off fast

With the dungeon click, just pulled a lick

Now what you really wanna know about the gangsta shit

Back on the scence, a sack of green sitting on crome and rubber bands

Paint looking like candyland, its sllimm the south paw triggerman

Flippin work and whippin weight, rock up, roll and get the papes

Chop them hoez and then you skate, ack to the block wit the deflate

Grams the os, slabes to whole ones da flake

A young nigga holdin big face foldin

Pimps are known for catching runaways

A good hustlers known to keep his gun away

First nigga run up and try to jack mine,

First nigga fuck up to get flat lined

Pack still stainless coupe and verts brainless

Yall dont wanna fuck wit me, the trunk be at bangin

Of the chain danling, yall know that im form c.p

Outkas wit a k, yeah them niggaz are hard

Harder than a nigga trying to impress god

Well pull yourre whole deck, fuck pulling your card

And still take my guitar and take a walk in the park

Any play the sweetest melody the street ever heard

Now bitches sucking on my nouns and im eating their verbs

Get full, and niggaz, niggaz,

Pop, pop, lock, lock to the, to the beat, beat

As if pitbulls went out of style, made a vow to myself

If its for the wealth ill stop, well put i like this

Its like me selling some dope because my girlfriend wants to shop

Wrong reason, whatever the season, hey winter, spring, summer or fall

I dont stall, slow drag wit your brain against the wall

Yeah, nigga naw, we learn to the side dont fall

All yall fuck boys, tuck toys inside your pants

Just to pull it out, point it at the ground and make a nigga wanna dance

Now what that be for, youre on that reefer and on that tupac

In front of them oooh wops, trying to show out, thats the hoe route

Talking loud talking bout thats gangsta shit