Crooked I - No Sleep Gang lyrics

[Verse 1] No sleep gang, insomnia gang We out here trafficking, that mean I'mma find me a lane You wanna be celebrities, you remind me of lames But I got bars, when I'm through selling these, I'mma buy me some fame All about that mulah holla, I'm a Rottweiler with an iced out collar Prada frames, Long Beach top shotta I don't count on n***as but I might count dollars I don't count on hoes but I might count dollars I don't count on haters but I might count Bottles in the VIP when the club turn the lights out I'm on the white couch yelling out Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang OG man, how the dope fiends came Get em so hooked, call a dope T-Pain Cardo on the beat, then it's no keychain Push to start, then a Crook to park Seats vibrate when the dope beat bang Drank the sip, n***a kush to spark [Hook] Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, n***a no sleep gang f** sleep, get that money my n***a f** sleep, get that money my n***a f** sleep, get that money my n***a f** sleep, get that money my n***a f** sleep, get that money my n***a Smoke in the club, roll that up Drank in the club, pour that up Haters in the club, so damn what If it don't make money then it don't add up No sleep gang, roll that up No sleep gang, throw that up No sleep gang, throw that up If it don't make money then you don't add up House in the hills, thousands and mill's Getting wild in the field with your spouse in Brazil On ounces and pills, how does it feel? To count dollar bills, to count dollar bills [x2] [Verse 2] No sleep gang, insomnia gang Raised by some O dogs, that's why I polly with 'caine They pushed rock in the 90's, they remind me of Dame Hundred on the dash, Jordan's on the gas Pull the top back while I'm sliding through the lanes Yelling bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Do-si-do with a ho he claim In the low-key mode, know she throw me brain And I know she know, chain and the cross C.O.B, I'm the COB gang boss b**h threw a molly in her own champagne This time around y'all can't blame Ross Momma told me I couldn't behave To that dollar was Crooked a slave Now I'm a master, fly right past ya Louis Vuitton sneakers one foot in the grave But before I die let me tell you this I'mma ball on you n***as, I can tell your pissed Talk about I took your wife out all night n***a don't tell me, homie tell your b**h [Hook] Bang bang bang, no sleep gang [x4]