DJ FMCT
Ayy, they told me I can't be around no gang members
Y'all got me fucked up, nigga
I go everywhere with my killers, man
DJ Bandz, oh, man
Yeah, let's get it
Throw that mask on, when you jump out first you better blast (Yeah)
We don't like slow shit, on hits, them switchers (Brrt) fast (Gang)
Ain't gon lie, the city haul with strikers, they don't last (Turn up)
When you poppin' with your killers, you better check your guys (Man, what)
We don't party on other blocks, they fuck with other opps (Let's get it)
Then come 'round like you gang, that got your brother shot (Brrah)
You say his namе inside a song, that got your brother hot (Let's gеt it)
Then leave him hangin' without a lawyer, that shit dumb as fuck (Pussy)
You come outside without your gun, lil' boy, you dumb as fuck (Dumb as fuck)
Ain't no quick run to the store, they pop out, fire you up (Brrah)
I told my PO through the gate that I get high as fuck (I get high as fuck)
She ask me how high do I get, I told her high as Duck (Tooka)
My brother told me get some property, I kept gettin' Glockies
I told him I only drink wocky, he say I'm gettin cocky (Let's get it)
All them bitches wanna fuck me, I don't give them money
One bitch thought I told her "Yeah, you better block me"
He survived one to the head, but it fucked up his body
You think he off a eight or red the way that nigga noddin'?
He don't even know 'bout drugs, he sell lean, oxycotin
You tryna judge him off his looks, that lil' boy Ashley Robin
Man, he talkin' 'bout gang in this bitch (Why he callin', talkin' 'bout gang?)
He ain't get back from that one shit, man his gang ain't on shit
'Fonem posted up outside, Dracos hanging and shit
Before he died, his ass a goofy, now he famous and shit (Brrr, brrr, brrr)
I'm King Draco, got my , check the record, bitch
The pussy dropped this song about me, he get found without his dick
Send off a bag my lil' cousin, they fakin', they'll call the quits
They made me mad enough, I spint' through there myself, say the wrong shit
Might still sit when I get low, but I prefer walk over trip
Fucked up and let me in the dough, I went fully on the sticks
I'm Mr. Slam 'Em Out, I called his babe, don't want locked on the lips
no evident, know my criminal book hella thick (On God)
You niggas goose, ain't got no gun
You went away, your ass is dumb
I'm on my seat, McLaren 1, I can't wait to get some money
My lil' nigga off four souls, he caught two dressed up like a junkie
They thought I was just rappin'
Lately, murder gang, that shit ain't funny
You know the murder gang, they come through, that shit ain't funny
I'm locked in with hundreds from the God, got killers 'round the country
I might not need to slam 'em out, just be yourself, stay 300
We get money Monday to Saturday, pray the [?] every Sunday
My clique tied up in the field, won't never hear me go out runnin'
Post up with pig, lock like I'm in LA, but the whole time I'm with gun
I'm tryna keep her up about shit you did, go get act or forget
It's either get ate on my side or fuck the drops and go and spin
Three and O, we skunkin' shit, get one more kill, consider the win
Be with us, won't never land 'till y'all get hit up with them pens
Can't come around unless you get a body, chopper, FN
We caught one of them pussies drunk, he died before he dropped the hint
Got 'bout ten whips in my garage and still don't know what to get in
Take all the embers out the cat, tint out the window 'fore I spin (Shh, brrr, tint out the window 'fore I spin, brrt, brrt, brrt, brrt)
