No Sleep Gang - KXNG Crooked

No sleep gang, insomnia gang

We out here trafficking, that mean I’mma find me a lane

You wanna be celebrities, you remind me of lames

But I got bars, when I’m through selling these, I’mma buy me some fame

All about that mulah holla, I’m a Rottweiler with an iced out collar

Prada frames, Long Beach top shotta

I don’t count on niggas but I might count dollars

I don’t count on hoes but I might count dollars

I don’t count on haters but I might count

Bottles in the VIP when the club turn the lights out

I’m on the white couch yelling out

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang

OG man, how the dope fiends came

Get em so hooked, call a dope T-Pain

Cardo on the beat, then it’s no keychain

Push to start, then a Crook to park

Seats vibrate when the dope beat bang

Drank the sip, nigga kush to spark

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang

Bang bang bang, nigga no sleep gang

Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga

Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga

Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga

Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga

Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga

Smoke in the club, roll that up

Drank in the club, pour that up

Haters in the club, so damn what

If it don’t make money then it don’t add up

No sleep gang, roll that up

No sleep gang, throw that up

No sleep gang, throw that up

If it don’t make money then you don’t add up

House in the hills, thousands and mill’s

Getting wild in the field with your spouse in Brazil

On ounces and pills, how does it feel?

To count dollar bills, to count dollar bills

No sleep gang, insomnia gang

Raised by some O dogs, that’s why I polly with 'caine

They pushed rock in the 90's, they remind me of Dame

Hundred on the dash, Jordan’s on the gas

Pull the top back while I’m sliding through the lanes

Yelling bang bang bang, no sleep gang

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang

Do-si-do with a ho he claim

In the low-key mode, know she throw me brain

And I know she know, chain and the cross

C.O.B, I’m the COB gang boss

Bitch threw a molly in her own champagne

This time around y’all can’t blame Ross

Momma told me I couldn’t behave

To that dollar was Crooked a slave

Now I’m a master, fly right past ya

Louis Vuitton sneakers one foot in the grave

But before I die let me tell you this

I’mma ball on you niggas, I can tell your pissed

Talk about I took your wife out all night

Nigga don’t tell me, homie tell your bitch

Bang bang bang, no sleep gang