Chorus:
Now you can't hang around, my crew or my clique,
Especially if you ain't about no gangsta shit,
You can't hang around, my crew or my clique,
Especially if you ain't about no gangsta shit
First Verse:
Kirby's round the corner playin' bones with Russ,
I'm waitin' for my bitch to get off of the bus,
She told me she could make it to my house by twelve,
So we could get it on, just amongst ourselves,
She came to, I had a blunt to blow,
After that, I'ma be ready to fuck this hoe,
I ran up in it for an hour or so,
Put her back in the bus and took a route to the store,
Picked up some brew for the rest of my crew,
And a couple of cigars for a blunt or two,
Headed for the D.J. Way on Teledonna,
Now this area was all about drama,
Hoes was sweatin', I had my shades on,
Ready to put the dick on any bitch that I played on,
Now what's the haps with you and your clique?
I don't think you want no more gangsta shit,
Mo I can roll, I'm just a baller from the South,
Ready to knock any muthafuckin' pussy out,
I got bitches on the side wanna ride with nine,
But don't understand the way that I kicks the style,
But I'm a flexor, to riggedy-wrecks-a nigga from the Nolia,
I'm goin' out everytime when I kick I'm like a solja,
Niggas don't understand the way that I flow,
The fliz-no is slow, so check this out bro
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