[Verse 1: EP]
When a Ganga had the Tommy John’s, boy he couldn’t do sh**
But watch Blue Chips and Jumpoff battles with Hommy Hom
Spill a 90 Chave, off the Hill of Hermitage
For the dead homies, got the urn up in the lodge
Black cloak, upon the tuxedo, don a corsage
Meat print up in the Speedo, libido for the menage
Is dwindling quick, sh**, he finna hit a lick
Took this chicks Kindle and sold it, she scolded “You swindling prick”
Set tripping off the Grant with PartyMan and Marty
A die hard Walter McCarty fan
And your so called fam, your dun Avery, in fun knavery
Said sh** that was unsavory
I smacked him open hand, now we got a schism
He sport the True Religion but a Ganga rock Twism
Tell your wisdom, lay off the dust and blush worn
A Ganga could have sworn she do animal crush p**n
[Hook]
Heavy on the mix down, heavy on delay
We be going sick now, every which way
Bevy of the grip, wow, bevy and array
We be going sick now, every which way
Aye, how that sh** sound get you ixnay-ed
Doppel got to skip town to your dismay
Oh, you got a rift now? what ya got to say?
We be going sick now, every which way
[Bridge]
Every which, way
Every which, way
Every which, way
Every which, way
[Verse 2: Matter ov Fact]
As I reminisce, and sprinkle hash up in my hash browns
Having flash backs of nearly drowning at the splash down
In Poughkeepsie, a Ganga was a cla** clown
With some Nudie flix, but never got his stash found nah
Fast forward to now, I'm still around
Still Dumpster diving and digging through them trash mounds agh
Former miss Orange County up in the ash crown Vic
Said she only fornicates wearing the sash, gown, sick
I Come through in the Petrovic
With no dental coverage, just chewing on some Dentastix
Living like some kids, yo f** a bunch of saloons
All I need is a bagged lunch from mom duke and a bunch o balloons
Agh some Cap'n Crunch and a spoon
See I'm a simple man hunched over watching toons
Or chilling with Mandy, off the path of the meadow trail
While I'm getting a handy with some clip on stiletto nails
[Hook]
Heavy on the mix down, heavy on delay
We be going sick now, every which way
Bevy of the grip, wow, bevy and array
We be going sick now, every which way
Aye, how that sh** sound get you ixnay-ed
Doppel got to skip town to your dismay
Oh, you got a rift now? what ya got to say?
We be going sick now, every which way
[Bridge]
Every which, way
Every which, way
Every which, way
Every which, way