I’m a G Boy lyrics

by

AR-AB


Yeah Yeah Cassidy and I ain't in no mutha f*cking gang but I'm a mutha f*cking gangster real rap

I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and the E boy I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and the E boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy I'mma G boy get smoked by P boy coc by the key boy got dope and E boy

All these rappers is acting like all the actors in the gangster flicks
They act gangster but really don't do no gangster sh*t
You not a gangster cause you on a real gangster di*k
A gangster rap is a rap that a real gangster spit
A gangster should never kiss another gangster lips
You shouldn't even kiss a gangster b*tch on some gangster sh*t
My flow cold like a runny nose I'm bouts to blow like a handkerchief and you ain't on my thank you list
Think of me when you think of jay-z think of kiss
Fif' or Em when you think of them think of this
I'm ma bout to go pick up this little stinky b*tch
And get brain but not the same brain she be thinking with
Banger by my pancreas if a n*gga think he slick
I'll blow his brain out now he can't think of sh*t
b*tch this how goon talk clip look like half a moon and it will make a n*gga moon walk
I'm not the king of pop but my thing finger pops
I sell bricks and got that Elvis I'm the king of rock
I'm still slangin rock trap phone ring a lot
Clientele popping up I'm on the block guapping up
I got that fish you got that sh*t that they locking
Up yup is going to be hard to push if that sh*t is hard to cook
The hard I cook give the fiends the retarded look
I get stupid cake cause one hit will give'em the stupid face
They smoke your coke and there no result they not high
They smoke my coke and they over dose they not alive
I ain't bagging white for bragging rights
But I was broke so I had to sell coke to get my swagger right
I'm the hustler cause I've been hustling for half my life
Anything I'm hustling I bought for lease half the price
My coupe blue and I'm cute too ask your wife
She had a tight little ass she could only take half the pipe
You have a pipe but you pus*y a Hermaphrodite
It's a men's world but if is drama you girl up
When ice cube was Jerry curled up
Rap was my whole world until rapper start f*cking my whole world up
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and the E boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and the E boy

Where I'm from money be the object
I get mines putting fire to the Pyrex
So f*ck a diss track I bring it to you direct
I kill you then the witness die next
Forty four bulldog get the five vex
You never progress if you only side bet
I'm trying to kill two birds with one stone
I just grab two birds now one gone
I supply it well that's my clientele
I fire shell if any of my client tell
Well they say is a long line to hell
But I'm ma either get rich or I'm ma die in jail
Until then I'm only trying to gain revenue
Raise a blade in a plate full of residue
Nine-Six Impala it's heaven blue
Being broke like you is what I'll never do
Purple juice and them zens got me sleep walking
She said n*ggas like me she don't see often
And I don't care if he shot I just keep sparking
I make n*ggas throw towels and give peace offerings
I got two baby moms and we don't speak often
I just give'em bank rolls and tell'em keep walking
I just show a b*tch money I don't keep talking
Then she slob on my nob like she retarded
Sour D four grams stuffed in a dutch
Fifty grand rubber band tucked in the cut
Two b*tches four hand touching my nuts
Then I give'em long di*k touching they gut
If money is the topic I get like Floyd
I be O-Ting moving grams of the boy
If I don't know n*ggas my hand on toy
Cause I'm ma a f*cking shooter Brandon Roy
My n*gga Cass got the bent I need the 550
Only blow good smoke an L 550
He not a real connect if he can't supply 50
My cousin na get half cause he'll die with me
O B A is the set and we gone make ours
Couple n*ggas got shot trying take ours
I was in the crack house with eight vows
You was like Eminem off of eight mile
In your sh*tty house writing rap songs
I use to run in n*ggas house with the mac drawn
I guess you only need one mic like Nas
I take a four pound and a white-pot
Glock 30 con-pact it's the right size
Vision ware on the stuff watch the white rise
I'm talking brick sales get your order up
I dry cook mine I don't like it watered up
If you short a buck I send them to the coroner
The gun small the clip hang like Florida
It say a stack on a scale when I weight powder
I'm a gangster a goon to the eighth power
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and E boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy I'mma I'mma I'mma G boy
I'mma G boy get smoke by P boy coke by the key boy got dope and the E boy
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net