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gang gang - bright campa lyrics

[intro]
look (17, 17)
i told him i’ll blow this out
d*roc, d*roc
look

[chorus]
panamera convertible, still ain’t lookin’ like i’m richer
dior fit straight out the stores, still look like i’m out them trenches
felon that still deal with copes, still gon’ send them f*ckin’ hitters
know i be on h*lla dope, still on drank to find my rhythm
yeah, p*ssy n*ggas can’t still keep up with me
yeah, he been k!llin’ sh*t, but still can’t f*ck with me
yeah, i got slimes that bang that fire, but still gon’ shoot for free
twelve can’t control me, no, i get money, money, money

[verse 1]
i don’t let sh*t go, i say, “no, no, no!”
i just bought a brand*new glock, and it ain’t come up out the store
if an opp try to block me off, i shoot this b*tch right on the road
i keep drugs inside my body and won’t let ’em take my soul
uh, dope ass, n*gga look like he’s selling dope, huh?
pistol totin’ ass n*gga, keep that pole, huh
check his swag, he act bad with these hoes, huh
k!lled that n*gga ’bout that dissing, bet they know now
he wan’ just be like his cousin meechy, real f*ckin’ slime
he wan’ be just like that n*gga yeezy, he want rolls, huh?
he just wan’ be real f*ckin’ shiesty like his uncle, huh?
he just wan’ be real f*ckin’ icey like he santa son
he say he don’t wanna be n0body, he wanna be lil top
he say he don’t give a f*ck about it, give him the guap
he say, “y’all could make an album ’bout it, just don’t f*ckin’ try”
get the f*ckin’ industry on your side, you still gon’ die
[chorus]
panamera convertible, still ain’t lookin’ like i’m richer
dior fit straight out the stores, still look like i’m out them trenches
felon that still deal with copes, still gon’ send them f*ckin’ hitters
know i be on h*lla dope, still on drank to find my rhythm
yeah, p*ssy n*ggas can’t still keep up with me
yeah, he been k!llin’ sh*t, but still can’t f*ck with me
yeah, i got slimes that bang that fire, but still gon’ shoot for free
twelve can’t control me, no, i get money, money, money

[verse 2]
i’m probably f*ckin’ on yo’ ho
no, they can’t control me, probably spit on that lil’ ho, yeah
put me back in jail and i was still in there, on dope
know that we don’t give no f*ck, try splittin’ him on the road
that my bro
who be out the window? mike amiri, know i put it on
gon’ get k!lled if you don’t k!ll me and i know i made it known
i’ma flex on ’em, told the b*tch, “don’t call my phone”
sent the blitz on ’em, run ’em down like bam, bam
don’t give a f*ck ’bout who up here, we could shoot it down
don’t give a f*ck ’bout if you with it
you a part of the crowd, clown
you gon’ die while you up in here when that bl!cky make the sound
probably catch me smokin’ loud, ridin’ ’round in a*
[chorus]
panamera convertible, still ain’t lookin’ like i’m richer
dior fit straight out the stores, still look like i’m out them trenches
felon that still deal with copes, still gon’ send them f*ckin’ hitters
know i be on h*lla dope, still on drank to find my rhythm
yeah, p*ssy n*ggas can’t still keep up with me
yeah, he been k!llin’ sh*t, but still can’t f*ck with me
yeah, i got slimes that bang that fire, but still gon’ shoot for free
twelve can’t control me, no, i get money, money, money

- bright campa lyrics

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