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51st disciple - gang51e june lyrics

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d.a. got that dope

[chorus]
he been coolin’ wit’ his partna’, blowin’ dope
plottin’ how to put another body on his pump, oh*ohhh
heard somebody called him, prolly’ said, “it’s smoke,”
that lil’ n*gga turnt up out his body, he on go, oh*ohhh
before he let ’em take his soul, he gon’ make a n*gga ghost
he gon’ up that chop’ and let it blow, oh*ohhh
this gangsta’ sh*t done made him cold, he been thuggin’ wit’ his pole
bangin’ 55 minus 4, ohhh
better tell these n*ggas he ain’t gangsta
he ain’t walkin’ out the house unless that n*gga got his banger
well, they better tell these n*ggas they ain’t dangerous
he’ll work the choppa out like he done got it for a chain, no

[verse 1]
they took his cousin early, he couldn’t believe they got him buried
he broke down at miss shirley’s, they told him chill and not to worry
f*ck that, ain’t no sparin’, got people dyin’, now it’s scary
don’t care ’bout kids and parents, them bullets flyin’ like canaries
he went and bought a new choppa’, ain’t hearin’ n0body, not even his momma
he grew out his dreads like a rasta, [?]
he fallin’ out wit’ his partnas’, these n*ggas goin’ to war over dollas’
he tryna’ get to the commas, camo bandana with fendi and prada
[chorus]
he been coolin’ wit’ his partna’, blowin’ dope
plottin’ how to put another body on his pump, oh*ohhh
heard somebody called him, prolly’ said, “it’s smoke,”
that lil’ n*gga turnt up out his body, he on go, oh*ohhh
before he let ’em take his soul, he gon’ make a n*gga ghost
he gon’ up that chop’ and let it blow, oh*ohhh
this gangsta’ sh*t done made him cold, he been thuggin’ wit’ his pole
bangin’ 55 minus 4, ohhh
somebody tell these n*ggas they some b*tches, i ain’t hanging wit’ no rats and i ain’t hangin’ wit’ no snitches
man, somebody tell these n*ggas mind they business, i been runnin’ up a check, yeah, i been runnin’ up them digits

[verse 2]
say they gon’ sn*tch my chain, b*tch try to reach, i up and bang
i feel like damien w*ng, b*tch we a army, major pain
and b*tch, i stayed the same, through all the fake sh*t and the fame
and rip my main, ayy d trey this sh*t in yo’ name

[chorus]
he been coolin’ wit’ his partna’, blowin’ dope
plottin’ how to put another body on his pump, oh*ohhh
heard somebody called him, prolly’ said, “it’s smoke,”
that lil’ n*gga turnt up out his body, he on go, oh*ohhh
before he let ’em take his soul, he gon’ make a n*gga ghost
he gon’ up that chop’ and let it blow, oh*ohhh
this gangsta’ sh*t done made him cold, he been thuggin’ wit’ his pole
bangin’ 55 minus 4, ohhh
[outro]
somebody tell these n*ggas they some b*tches, i ain’t hanging wit’ no rats and i ain’t hangin’ wit’ no snitches
man, somebody tell these n*ggas mind they business, i been runnin’ up a check, yeah, i been runnin’ up them digits

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