Luyện nghe bài hát Onna Gang

Shit, I'ma this shit onna gang nigga
Cuz, nigga, everything I'm nigga, that's on gang nigga

Just you got yo ass a gun, it don't make you a gangsta
Ol' bad ass lil' boy, I'll you a spankin'
I know some niggas want me dead, I been keepin' 'em
Keep takin' pictures wit' all hammers, ain't beatin' no cases
Load the clips up wit' gloves, I ain't no traces
I'll leave up out this earth before leavin' a
Funk wit' us, yeah just know that you wit' Haitians
We ride wit' baby K's on a special occasion
bitch I'm a dog, but a lion at heart
You know that shit gon' come to light, you hide in the dark
And you can't get up in this whip, you ridin' a bart
And you don't shit you tweet but be typin' it hard
And every I hit a bitch, it be from behind
When had me in that cell, I was beefin' wit' time
Nah nigga, I rap just speakin' my mind
DaBoii for President, bitch I'm freein' the
Keep on out your neck, that shit funny as fuck
I'm finna pull up on your and bust me a nut
I'm not familiar wit' no or no home trainin'
You the best liar of the year wit' all bold facin'
I'm tryna touch a B and I got no patience
If you owe me pay me in full nigga, no
I ain't wit' niggas I be close casin'
Boy I about my chicken I be Bojangin'
SOB RBE we the most
prayin' on our downfall, you gon' hate it
Ain't no C's in this P no banking
Disrespectful lil' boy, a No, David
on blingy bling, your bitch want my Jimmy Dean
Nigga you don't really want beef, you a bean
callin', ringy ring
Rob me? Silly
Lyin' bitch keep claimin' I'm her lover, be Billy Jean
And it's 200 on dash, Valet I'm parkin' at
It's still a mystery, can't where my heart was at
Where my target at? G-lock me and I'm sparkin' that
You talk behind my back, I your bitch
Her back? She archin'
I that mufuckin' 4-0
And you ain't got no problems that Deuce Deuce
I'm a young wild wit' a old soul
90's baby, middle fingers to the new
I'm bad wit' keys, just the start and it go vroom vroom
He he up but in his pockets ain't no boo koo
This .40 go bang this 4-5 go boom
BIP Tu reminiscin' too soon
Why I'm so fucked up in the head? I wish I knew the
lock that phone up in that purse 'cause I don't do the cameras
Hand me some hundreds, that blue then I'm throwin' a tantrum
If I can't pour up in that I'ma go wit' the Fanta
I got some demons in my your gang full of jabronies
And I ain't poppin' out a pill, smoke me some dodi
It's 3 in your whip, Rolie, Polie, and Olie
Leave a hole up in yo' whip, now you and moly
ONNA