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gang - yung trashi lyrics

[chorus]
blood all on my vans, you not gang, you can’t hang
we don’t pass the blunt to you because lil n*gga you not the same
we be flexing, smith & wesson, and we harbor illegal weapons
red dot to your cranium, we leave you with new settings
you’s a b*tch, we don’t know you
who you clique? we finna pole you
then we dip like some fondue
you an opp, yea, we been knew
go to the stu’ with the homies
outta the blue, yo b*tch wanna blow me
she give me head sometimes but she really is not a trophy

[verse 1: trashi]
pause, what the f*ck do you want?
i got my vest on and my n*ggas, we rolling some runtz
hey baby, come to the crib!
she eat me up like i’m lunch
go to parking lot and fought her n*gga out in the front
b*tch i’m with the gang, aye
we really insane, aye
wanna be like us but you n*ggas really snake, aye
wanna get some play, aye
go home with the baybays
you n*ggas really kids, need to stay up in a child’s place
do the race if you want to, you not gone live to see adulthood
nah, don’t do it
i’mma leave a n*gga leaking body fluids
if you wanna talk then come and do sh*t
because i’m with the gang n*gga, you can’t even fool us
and i’mma do it like medusa, lil n*gga, you is a cooter
i’mma , uh, im a barracuda
we in the bermuda
you’s a dog, we get you neutered
lil baby i am so fluent
i’mma do it, i’mma g
you know that , you know the fee
i’m a big dog, big baller, baby, you know me, eugh!
[chorus]
blood all on my vans, you not gang, you can’t hang
we don’t pass the blunt to you because lil n*gga you not the same
we be flexing, smith & wesson, and we harbor illegal weapons
red dot to your cranium, we leave you with new settings
you’s a b*tch, we don’t know you
who you clique? we finna pole you
then we dip like some fondue
you an opp, yea, we been knew
go to the stu’ with the homies
outta the blue, yo b*tch wanna blow me
she give me head sometimes but she really is not a trophy

[verse 2: k!llmichy]
no that b*tch is not a trophy
i’m stacking bread, i keep it lowkey
don’t play with michy, you get knocked down
i’m shooting 3s just like ginóbili
look at this clown, yea he on lockdown
right to a b*tch who want to throat me
just like a tree, yea, he get chopped down
cause he was claiming he my brodie
no, bro, i swear that you don’t know me
white shooter, think his name is cody.,
i’m h*lla fired just like kentucky p*ssy
boy keep tryna duck me
24 to his back just like he kobbe
if he survive then he is lucky
i pour the lean, i pour the codeine
you got the glocks? um, well then show me
you dissin’ me but you like 40
i am the bird, you the coyote
lil michy you know he can’t lack i’m getting these racks, i’m beatin’ yo’ b*tch from the back
and lil boy, you know that’s facts
i carry the macs, ars, glocks and tecs
and i’m just tryna f*ck, yea, i’m not tryna text
i’m beating her back in, i leave her perplexed
she spamming my phone , that’s the michy effect
you dissin’ on me well , lil boy, you are next … to die
i’m not tryna argue, i’m texting you back,” aight”
that b*tch is a treesh, she got kicked to the side
wearing gucci and louis, i cannot decide
and you really got married? and that is your bride?
that b*tch is a treesh, she sucked me and my guys
i’m telling the truth ain’t no reason to lie
and i’m finna spark like it’s fourth of july
and i walk in your house with my 4 + 5!
[chorus]
blood all on my vans, you not gang, you can’t hang
we don’t pass the blunt to you because lil n*gga you not the same
we be flexing, smith & wesson, and we harbor illegal weapons
red dot to your cranium, we leave you with new settings
you’s a b*tch, we don’t know you
who you clique? we finna pole you
then we dip like some fondue
you an opp, yea, we been knew
go to the stu’ with the homies
outta the blue, yo b*tch wanna blow me
she give me head sometimes but she really is not a trophy

[verse 2: trashi]
you trappin’ and rappin’ and still pistol packing
you not bout that action
i pull up on yo block and leave it in ashes
we moving them packs in an orderly fashion
you n*ggas is capping
you see that gun that you got on you?
it don’t mean sh*t, you got that sh*t for the fashion
no silence while my money is counting
n*ggas wanna be me, i’m they favorite kin
use to have her then, you was complaining
now you got her but you still ain’t run no hands
but guess what?
i don’t give a f*ck now
i’mma blow now and instead of b*tching and whining, i’mma take my show now
man i’m off this sh*t
[outro: trashi]
you was really hating on me and didn’t even know who i was
bruh, you’re weird as f*ck
anyways bro:
album coming out soon
shout out !nsignia
shout out infinityposse
we up next bruh
i’m off this sh*t

- yung trashi lyrics

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