CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Facts
I got a mopstick, I be on the block b*t*h i be lurkin'
He on that opp sh*t, I smoke his top b*t*h I'm a surgeon
I got a Glock b*t*h and I got a stick so I'ma [?]
Headshot, that's a murder
D.O.A my n***as hurt
Yeah we swervin' b*t*h we swervin'
And we riding with the thirtys
I'll leave your ass [?] because I shoot like Stephen Curry
Drop the Y we do you dirty, drop the Y we do you dirty
Yeah we stay blicked up so my n***as ain't worry
RIP the gang free the gang
All I know it's Fatz Gang
all my n***as 46k
Catch a opp smoke his face
Masked up so no case
D.O.A, D.O.A, smoke Bob in his grave
Kick it laywer, beat this case
f**k twelve wе on the chase
We need monеy so we take, we need money so we take
Folks'nem be right on your ass, make your n***as do the race
These n***as screamin' GetBackGang but they wanna be like gang
Catch a n***a with the [?]
All these n***as switchin' up but your ass mantain
Fatz gang same thing
And i got a couple shortys blick your ass for a name
Make you do the runnin' man, when the shooters hop out van
Why you runnin' with your man? you got [?] at your man
Why you runnin' with your man? Folks'nem [?]
Folks'nem just hop out the vans, [?] hit him in the [?]
gang, we ain't playin'
I had pipes since I was ten
We be on that gang sh*t
[?], hop out sprayin'
KD hit Mad Max, he be tweakin' off the [?]
We ride around with three sticks
We stay lurkin' thought the six
Folks hit him in his brains, I swear god I was: "oh sh*t"
f**k the six and f**k the WIIIC
Pull up, pop out with them sticks
It's gon' be a murder scene, we go reckless with the blicks
Caught you, Drilla, bro don't miss
This top is from that target hit
Put that Beretta on the six
Cause that n***as ain't on sh*t
Just might go the [?] twerkin'
I swear god, that good as sh*t
I smoke Bob-O, cause that stank smell like sh*t
And don't shoot thought no cars, we ballin' out on you b*t*h
Lil Boo hit, smell like b*t*h
Had a tire on his sh*t
I be high off the sh*ts
I can't [?] the licks
n***as mad at Young Money cause we prolly f**k they b*t*h
Blame you up, no, we don't miss
Put the red tape [?] on the six
Guarantee you a man down
When I hop out with my blick
And this .40 don't got kick
Run up on [?] fake that b*t*h
blow that new pack, cause that opp ain't on sh*t
f**k the six and f**k the WIIIC
slidin' on Bricks
He on that opp sh*t, I smoke his top b*t*h I'm a surgeon
I got a Glock b*t*h and I got a stick so I'ma [?]
Headshot, that's a murder
D.O.A my n***as hurt
Yeah we swervin' b*t*h we swervin'
And we riding with the thirtys
I'll leave your ass [?] because I shoot like Stephen Curry
Drop the Y we do you dirty, drop the Y we do you dirty
Yeah we stay blicked up so my n***as ain't worry
RIP the gang free the gang
All I know it's Fatz Gang
all my n***as 46k
Catch a opp smoke his face
Masked up so no case
D.O.A, D.O.A, smoke Bob in his grave
Kick it laywer, beat this case
f**k twelve wе on the chase
We need monеy so we take, we need money so we take
Folks'nem be right on your ass, make your n***as do the race
These n***as screamin' GetBackGang but they wanna be like gang
Catch a n***a with the [?]
All these n***as switchin' up but your ass mantain
Fatz gang same thing
And i got a couple shortys blick your ass for a name
Make you do the runnin' man, when the shooters hop out van
Why you runnin' with your man? you got [?] at your man
Why you runnin' with your man? Folks'nem [?]
Folks'nem just hop out the vans, [?] hit him in the [?]
gang, we ain't playin'
I had pipes since I was ten
We be on that gang sh*t
[?], hop out sprayin'
KD hit Mad Max, he be tweakin' off the [?]
We ride around with three sticks
We stay lurkin' thought the six
Folks hit him in his brains, I swear god I was: "oh sh*t"
f**k the six and f**k the WIIIC
Pull up, pop out with them sticks
It's gon' be a murder scene, we go reckless with the blicks
Caught you, Drilla, bro don't miss
This top is from that target hit
Put that Beretta on the six
Cause that n***as ain't on sh*t
Just might go the [?] twerkin'
I swear god, that good as sh*t
I smoke Bob-O, cause that stank smell like sh*t
And don't shoot thought no cars, we ballin' out on you b*t*h
Lil Boo hit, smell like b*t*h
Had a tire on his sh*t
I be high off the sh*ts
I can't [?] the licks
n***as mad at Young Money cause we prolly f**k they b*t*h
Blame you up, no, we don't miss
Put the red tape [?] on the six
Guarantee you a man down
When I hop out with my blick
And this .40 don't got kick
Run up on [?] fake that b*t*h
blow that new pack, cause that opp ain't on sh*t
f**k the six and f**k the WIIIC
slidin' on Bricks
