Luyện nghe bài hát Onna Gang

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

Just 'cause you got yo ass a gun, it don't make you a
Ol' bad ass lil' boy, I'll you a spankin'
I know some want me dead, I been keepin' 'em patient
Keep takin' pictures wit' all them hammers, ain't beatin' no
Load the up wit' gloves, I ain't leavin' no traces
I'll leave up out this earth leavin' a statement
Funk wit' us, yeah just know that you beefin' wit'
We ride around wit' K's on a special occasion
Lil' bitch I'm a dog, but a lion at
You know that shit come to light, you can't hide in the dark
And you can't get up in this whip, catch you a bart
And you mean shit you tweet but be typin' it hard
And every time I hit a bitch, it be from
When had me in that cell, I was beefin' wit' time
Nah nigga, I rap just speakin' my mind
for President, bitch I'm freein' the guys
Keep on talkin' out your neck, shit funny as fuck
I'm finna pull up on your and bust me a nut
I'm not familiar wit' no manners or no trainin'
You the best liar of the year wit' all that bold
I'm just tryna 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 been my chicken I be Bojangin'
SOB RBE we the most
Keep prayin' on our downfall, you gon' it
Ain't no C's in this P no banking
Disrespectful lil' boy, you's a No,
Mouth on blingy bling, bitch want my Jimmy Dean
Nigga you don't really beef, you a chili bean
Labels callin', ringy
Rob me? Silly
bitch keep claimin' I'm her lover, must be Billy Jean
And it's 200 on this dash, I'm parkin' at
It's still a mystery, can't remember where my was at
Where my target at? G-lock me and I'm sparkin' that
You behind my back, I take your bitch
Her back? She that
I that mufuckin' 4-0
And you got no problems totin' that Deuce Deuce
I'm a young wild nigga wit' a old
90's baby, middle fingers to the new
I'm bad wit' keys, just push the and it go vroom vroom
He claim he up but in his pockets no boo koo
This .40 go this 4-5 go boom boom
BIP Tu reminiscin' gone too
Why I'm so fucked up in the head? I wish I the answer
Bitch lock that phone up in purse 'cause I don't do the cameras
Hand me some hundreds, that ain't blue I'm throwin' a tantrum
If I can't pour up in Sprite I'ma go wit' the Fanta
I got some demons in my gang your gang of jabronies
And I ain't poppin' out a pill, I'ma me some dodi
3 peons in your whip, Rolie, Polie, and Olie
Leave a hole up in yo' whip, now you holy and
ONNA