crime pays - bandgang masoe & stanwill lyrics
[intro: bandgang masoe]
it’s on his head
it’s crazy how a n*gga could get blew and turned red
we lost one, came back and dropped somethin’, like what they said? (ooh, sh*t, that’s a danny g beat)
f*ck they said?
n*gga, he’s in his head
[verse 1: bandgang masoe]
it’s crazy how a n*gga could get blew and turned red
we lost one, came back and dropped somethin’, like what he said?
got a n*gga hit up, i’m at home in bed
in my california king, money tall as yao ming
with the mary and we ridin’ through the d, [?]
i’ve been heavy on the pills, i cut back on the lean
told my ho these n*ggas sellin’ dreams, martin luthеr king
got a bell on the back of my glock, don’t let it ring
thеse n*ggas get caught, turn to a nina and sing
when i pick that phone up and say, “money”, it’s green
i’m tryna hit a n*gga main b*tch, he in the league
i don’t get tired like i play in 2k with no fatigue
just whipped out twenty in all blues, she intrigued
interested, n*ggas stealin’ sh*t, that mean they listenin’
he ain’t in the streets like the app, his ass a citizen
sellin’ blues to them yellow folks, michigan
they plucked him up and now his ass flat, michelin
sellin’ ‘caine, try some duff sh*t and get a dirty grave
playin’ both sides, he in the middle, seventh grade
i get all my money illegally, n*gga, crime pays
my young n*gga bodied up, he in his ho phase
i hope all my n*ggas get rich and die of old age
i know a b*tch that’s hoein’ without backpage
n*gga play then got deleted, backsp*ce
she let me bust it in her mouth, she liked how it taste
n*gga tried to catch me slippin’ and he caught the k
now they singin’ church songs like “amazing grace”
[verse 2: stanwill]
he get hit with this, bet he won’t make it in the surgery
model b*tch from paris, but the whip was made in germany
bro know chemistry, he took a sprite and made it burgandy
doggy need a whopper and a crown ’cause he the burger king
push to start, b*tch, i ain’t turnin’ keys
never punched a clock, if i ain’t rap, then i be servin’ fiends
everything he sayin’ cap, i think he speakin’ purpanese
spilled some wocky on my mike amiris, now they purple jeans
bl!ckie with the opp, think if i miss, it was the grace of god
turnt as f*ck, i turn it any more, sh*t, i might break the kn*b
.40 kinda chunky, sh*t, today i might just play the .9
need to get his b*tch some health insurance, i’ma break her spine
pop with some wock’, gettin’ top from some thots
pull up on us tryna score, you gettin’ stopped by them locks
chop with the glock, you know opps, they get shot
i guess they ain’t never tell ’em tryna box get you boxed
huh, dog sh*t militia
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