Lyrics
Hey
Why they hatin' on a youngin'?
Said why they hatin' on a youngin'?
Nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
You can’t hang, nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Nigga you can’t hang, you can’t hang, hang
You can’t, you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Bitch I’m an OG, but I’m quick to pull it like a youngin'
In my pockets, all hundreds, run up on me, bitch I’m drummin'
I was thuggin' on the corner with my niggas, came from nothin'
Fuck these bitches, I don’t trust 'em, I’m a dog, fuck her cousin
They like, «Goddamn Bibby why you still on that block shit?»
Get you shot quick 'round them niggas I don’t rock with
I seen niggas turned Christian when they feel that hot shit
Thought you was a savage, now you on that Lord watch shit
Give a fuck if you box well, I got hot shells
Drop Ls, pull up back to back and give your block hell
Pistol whip your kids, I’m a demon, I’ma rot in Hell
Do the time, I will not tell like I’m Vondell
Nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
You can’t hang, nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Nigga you can’t hang, you can’t hang, hang
You can’t, you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Mama always told me that the streets ain’t got no love for you
Niggas get in jam, start tellin' on their blood brother
Need the type of homies like Edai, do a dub for you
Niggas stand around, they ain’t workin', they just bloodsuckers
Love my lil' brother cause he always keep it real with me
If it fall down, he gon' be right there to build with me
Right back in the field with me, robber, he gon' kill with me
And we get into it every week, but he still with me
And I’m eatin' steak now, but I’m with that beef shit
Fuck these old niggas, they can’t tell me 'bout no street shit
Love the ones you starve with, them the ones you eat with
I don’t trust these bitches, only Nina who I sleep with
Nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
You can’t hang, nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Nigga you can’t hang, you can’t hang, hang
You can’t, you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
See you ridin' 'round flexin' and shit with all them guns, boy. Lord knows you
got a license for every one of them bitches. Stop flexin', boy. You ain’t tryna
catch nothin'. Ayy, ayy
All these niggas 'round card crackin', we just call that broad trappin'
I was in the field with my youngins, where it’s all action
I just play my part, goin' hard for the squad
If a nigga play with me, he gon' have to meet his god
And I’m still ridin' through the hood, grippin' on the steel
Give a fuck 'bout how you feel, they know why I kept it hard
Fuck the police and the serge'
If they ask me 'bout a murder, I just tell 'em I was blind
Like my last name was Charles
Talkin' way before hip-hop, pounds in a Ziploc
White Shawn and Marley doin' drills, got the strip hot
I was shootin' dice, tryna come up on a big knot
You was in the class crackin' jokes like you Chris Rock
Nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
You can’t hang, nigga you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
Nigga you can’t hang, you can’t hang, hang
You can’t, you can’t hang, you ain’t gang, gang
You can’t hang, nigga, nigga, you ain’t gang
You can’t hang, hang
You already know, man
Boss gang shit
Gang