a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

backstreets - g man & bris lyrics

[intro: bris & g man]
when it’s time to ride you better shoot that
i got bands in my pants, i just blew that (g man)
i got bands in my pants, i just blew that
when it’s time to ride you better shoot that

[chorus: g man]
when it’s time to ride you better shoot that (better shoot)
i got bands in my pants, i just blew that (money crack)
baby i’m that n*gga ’round the city, thought you knew that (i thought you knew)
dumb n*gga been had his chance, but he blew that (ayy)
catch them n*ggas slippin’ on them backstreets (ba, ba)
my steppers been sittin’, n*ggas on they ass cheeks (on they ass)
never come outside ’cause they know that we clap heat
been chasin’ n*ggas down, i was a athlete, ayy

[verse 1: g man]
yeah, i graduated school, i ain’t no dummy
i know how to hit that road and get straight to the money
his mom thought it was christmas to wrap a n*gga like a mummy
sick of all of these b*tches, they can’t have me, i need the money (on my momma)
why you keep goin’ through her phone? (why?)
askin’ why she can’t stop blowin’ up my phone
she wanna go, get it stacked, get up and bring it home (huh?)
when i touch that chicken, i’ma put my n*ggas on (put ’em on)
if you doubted me, don’t try to hit my phone (nope)
f*ck them hating n*ggas, leave them f*ck n*ggas alone (f*ck ’em)
if you touch my brothers, i’ma get a n*gga gone (get him)
it’s gon’ get smirkish, i’ma do a n*gga wrong (pa, pa)
[chorus: g man & bris]
when it’s time to ride you better shoot that (better shoot)
i got bands in my pants, i just blew that (money crack)
baby i’m that n*gga ’round the city, thought you knew that (i thought you knew)
dumb n*gga been had his chance, but he blew that (ayy)
catch them n*ggas slippin’ on them backstreets (ba, ba)
my steppers been sittin’, n*ggas on they ass cheeks (on they ass)
never come outside ’cause they know that we clap heat (ayy, ayy, ayy)
been chasin’ n*ggas down, i was a athlete, ayy

[verse 2: bris]
that ain’t my fault, try and k!ll me when y’all had a freebie (y’all should’ve k!lled me)
f*ckin’ b*tches in the backseat, yeah i had her creamy (real creamy)
ayy, n*gga tryna turn his finny to a lamborghini (to a lambo)
callin’ plays in the field like i’m albert genie
bris keep that pole the whole city know (whole city know)
[?] trippin’, i can’t even show him in my videos (no i can’t)
i just sit back and laugh at these silly hoes (i got racks)
broke b*tches can’t even buy a n*gga a chili bowl
[?] top body slam in that uzi kick (bow, bow)
yeah, i really ’bout that action with these movie clips (what)
but you n*ggas finally guyin’, i’m stewie griff (on my momma)
bend her over, put that d*ck in her and make her booty thick

- g man bris lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular