NA3NA3 - .223Jerm, 83HADES, Christ Dillinger

We on X Games mode

Bitch!

It’s pay day fellas!

Gang gang gang

Gang shit, gang bitch, gang shit (Gang gang)

Gang, gang

Gang, gang

Gang, gang

Gaaang!

When it comes to fades b-b-bitch I’m never running

Watch me do the nae nae then just watch me hit the dougie (brrrt!)

Talkin' on the gang then on my momma that I’m busting (B-b-b-boom!)

How you say you got a strap but you ain’t ever tucking (Rah rah rah)

Bitch!

Shut the fuck up (What the fuck?)

I be toting up these straps right at you bustas (B-b-bop)

How you only selling grams but you a hustla'?

Y-you ain’t ever run no streets, you ain’t from gutta'

(Gang, gang, gaaang!)

When it comes to fades b-b-bitch I’m never running

Watch me do the nae nae then just watch me hit the dougie (brrrt!)

Talkin' on the gang then on my momma that I’m busting (B-b-b-boom!)

How you say you got a strap but you ain’t ever tucking (Rah rah rah)

Pull up with a stick and I let that shit hit

And these niggas be talkin', they grippin' the dick

I got ice on my neck I got ice- alright hold on, hold on

Okay let me stop playin', ay

Fuck on a little bitch like I just did a bit

I cut the blow and I come up with different hits

He just re-upped and I’m plottin' on robbin' him

I get the coke and I cut it with glycerol

Sippin' on, sippin' on, sippin' on Wokhardt, you niggas sip Tylenol

Niggas be hatin' on me cus they dick is small

Come behing smiled at me in the mall

She bought the perc and it look like an M&M

Fuck with a nigga like me you aren’t seein' them

We fuck these hoes and you niggas be cuffin' 'em

I don’t take pictures with fans I be robbin' 'em

I don’t take pictures with fans I be robbin' 'em

You in the comments but won’t break the law

OG, bitch we be smokin' that

Get to the money real fast like a runner back

You is a bum and yo' bitch she be sayin' that

You bought my EP, I need you to bring it back

That’s for real niggas so you can’t be bumpin' that

Bitch I be ballin', I wear a starter cap

Niggas be talkin' 'bout, that’s a fuckin' cap

Pull up on Spider Gang, nigga we bussin' that

Bullets be flyin', that fifty piece party pack

I put a nigga in a box like a tesseract

Real nigga, you pussies ain’t testin' that

Hahahahaha

Real trap shit

Ay, ay

Always pimpin'

Bitch I got a shot, it’s like Scottie Pippen

Always grippin'

If I see the 12 then I’m fuckin' dippin'

Said he grippin'

But I know he not cus he steady bitchin'

Really tryna rob him but I’m tellin' him we gonna kick it

In the kitchen

Cookin' up that shit then we gonna flip it

When I look around I swear to God I wan' kill all of you

I just really wanna fuck, the only reason that I followed you

And I’m pullin' out a gun, these bullets just might fuckin' hollow you

Homie get his witch back

On her lips like lipstick

Cuttin' people off, I cannot fuck wit' none that bitch shit

Pull up wit' a big stick

Hit up Jeramiah, help me knock 'em off the hitlist

Pussy you a Kit-Kat, snapped in half you ain’t with that

Spend a bag, keep on tryna' touch me I might kill a fag

Grippin' mags, ridin' with a pole when we swipe tags (Fuck!)

(I said who’s fuckin' playin' motherfuck-)

When it comes to fades b-b-bitch I’m never running

Watch me do the nae nae then just watch me hit the dougie (brrrt!)

Talkin' on the gang then on my momma that I’m busting (B-b-b-boom!)

How you say you got a strap but you ain’t ever tucking (Rah rah rah)