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you got me hanging on 6 mile - bandgang biggs lyrics

[intro: bandgang biggs & classic chill]
(my n*gga lee, i think we got another one)
(1*800 for you)
you know we in the bronx with it
a 6 mile n*gga, n*gga (ayy, ayy, ayy)
yeah (yeah)
knife gang in this b*tch, n*gga
come on, now

[verse 1: bandgang biggs]
fat n*gga, but them hundreds lookin’ crispy (b*tch)
i’m listenin’, you talkin’ money, you got my attention (what?)
fiend tryna clean my wheels off, i threw him fifty
here, take the money, he want bobby brown, b*tch, whitney (okay)
i shave a quarter off your face with this chopstick
we drop sh*t, and every time i see you, you on opp sh*t (lame)
pops sl!ckin’ n*ggas at your neck, you can’t stop sh*t (naw)
12 tryna stop us ’cause we got the whole block lit (we in this b*tch)
beat the trap door off the hinges, makin’ plenty sells
plenty bales, run up in this b*tch, you gettin’ sent to h*ll
every fail, send the reaper to you quick as h*ll
went to jail, knocked that sh*t out, you n*ggas quick to tell
whole hood hot, but, boy, we still in this b*tch
on any tip, you lay it up on me, my n*ggas send this sh*t
i’ma send her like shaq, bro, on kobe sh*t
’cause all he do is wanna shoot soon as he touch the ball
f*ck the mall, i’m tryna get a hundred before summer fall
it’s a louis shirt, so b*tch, don’t touch me with your filthy paw
read the clause, i knew how to trap before i knew to crawl (yeah)
do you want exotics or the scams? b*tch, we do it all
[chorus: classic chill]
you (you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
you (you, you, you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile

[verse 2: bandgang javar]
she was used to n*ggas trickin’, tryna take her to benis
put her face on 1090s, took her to endi
f*ckin’ with the common names, you’re end up like 50
i was waitin’ in the cars, you brought it all back to me
i found out you wasn’t sh*t, put my mans on her
you found out you was a ho, put your hands on her
she used to shop at rainbow, kept some vans on her
i got her swipin’ out of town, now them bands on her
i know it hurt when you found out your b*tch wasn’t sh*t
i was in the feds, found out my b*tch gettin’ hit
what, you expect me to trip?
she had to run off with some cheese, you see me chasin’ a b*tch
i got out, ran it up like forrest gump, wasn’t r*t*rded
hit the road, made twenty, i was just gettin’ started
so much chicken, i should sell eggs to the market
got that sh*t on me, probably smell like i farted

[chorus: classic chill]
you (you)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
you (you, you, you, my n*gga lee, i think we got another one)
you got me hanging on 6 mile
[outro: classic chill]
yeah
you got me hanging on 6 mile
bronx style

- bandgang biggs lyrics

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