Lyrics Twisted Insane – Gangbang Swang
Text:
Verse 1
Yeah
Yea yea,
Gold datins
I’m talkin’ 16 switches on the low low
Oh, there I go
Yeah I’m a G
How many licks do it take to hit the back buckle only three
Pablo, Esko go on my metro
Got the complexion now my connection’s Petro
And if he ever out I hear wed-o
Cause he got the wet-o and the heavy metal
Chitty bang bang where they gangbang
When they slang caine
Where the tray swang
In the k-flang
That’s why I’m runnin shit
One in the tip
Gun in the hip
Any one of these niggas trip
I go harder than a pain
Do em like Shaq do guards in a pain
When that Thompson go off, they know it’s beef
When their arms blow off to the middle of the street
Chorus
You see the fresh tats
You see the big chain
Get in the game stop watchin from the side man
We in the fast lane
We got ahead trump, so you never gainin ground
You can talk your shit
You can blog your shit
But stay out the booth, let the real mothafuckas spit
And I’ma say this one more time
Next talkin that I do is through the barrel of my nine
Verse 2
Bumpin draggin
Levi’s saggin
Calico’s spit flames like a fire-breathin dragon
Get off the wagon
Fuck all the naggin
I’m from southeast San Diego where my niggas flame flaggin
Cowards talk slick
With nouns and verbs
Yeah they never bust a uie and bang they datas on the curb
Smoke a little pot
Drink a lot of patron
And I’m comfortable in any city’s gangsta zone
My rep is full blown you 36 in a BG
I’m a boy in the hood like my name was EZ
Got plugs on drugs or whatever you like
Got green, got pills, got soft, got white
And I can make a deal seem so appealin,
Get you high enough make you wanna dance on the ceilin
But if you snitch on me, nigga you know it’s beef,
When your arms and legs blowed off in the middle of the street
Chorus
The other day
The homie took mine from the waist
Up in the wrong place standin with a wife beater and a .38
With a perm lookin like Samuel L. and Jackie Brown
Wavin a pistol around
«Everybody get the fuck down!»
But don’t be speakin about this G shit if you ain’t with it nigga
Walkin the street without packin your heat homie you needs to quit it nigga
Shit I was a little nigga watchin big homies pull the triggas with tha
And to get sick on these mothafuckas off the rooftop I watched and hit ya
Everybody’s off that gangbang swang
Then hit the corner nigga gotta fill up on the marijuana nigga
Two in doin too many those muchos on the streets takin that wakin that’s happenin D
Then blame it on the rapper with the guts and crack in the back of the seats
Yeah right never ran from a fight
Hit niggas with the left and right
Niggas pull guns on the ones they want to get slumped with the nighty-night
Now Compton go off, then they know it’s beef
When they arms blow off to the middle of the street yeah
