22gz - Sniper Gang lyrics

When I get to swerving on ’em, spinning the curb up on ’em Sending Suburbans on ’em and we lurking on ’em Ain’t no funeral service for ’em (Boom, boom, boom) I’m on a mission for ’em, Sniper Gang got the vision on ’em Never snitching, go to prison for ’em (Nah) Hundred round drum, thirty clip is on ’em, blood dripping on ’em P***y n***a went against the gang, you know that’s a violation Penalty is d**h, take his last breath Bullets burning, like I’m frying bacon, n***as dying waiting Never mind the hating, I’m a General, n***a (Blicky the Blicky) I’m about to put an end to you n***as n***as f**ed your baby momma, spent up all your money All you did was tell on them n***as? (Bands, bands, bands, bands) You was with this gang banging, you was tryna be like 22 I’m responsible for all you n***as (Blicky the Blicky) I’m the realest n***a, tell the truth (Bop, bop, bop) And I know I might alarm, nobody thinks you a Don Q Thirty round knocking off a limb, maybe leg, head, plus an arm too I could look into your eyes, know you never been on a mission Some n***as be b***h and never really listen Get put in a ditch and now his momma missing Might put out that hit and now we gotta get him We caught us a lick and now we gotta wet ’em This s**t ain’t no diss, ain’t no Tory Lanez I pull out that blick and leave no remains You don’t want these Blicky n***as parked inside of High Bridge Look what I did, got the ladder hanging out the stick Looking like a high bridge, you could die, kid F**k Real-Right, y’all can s** a d**k and get k**ed too Y’all know damn well who got y’all mans hit Even Kooda blooded, just spilled too k**ing n***as then I rap about it, like I’m Melly, n***a (Sike) Ain’t no s**t that you could tell me, n***a (Right) Murder on my mind, is you ready, n***a, I’m a deadly n***a Can’t compare my s**t to none of these b***h n***as Not JD, not D Sav, and especially not that snitch n***a Blicky the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky Soft a*s n***as Stop f**in’ calling my name, son (Gang, Gang, Gang) Y’all n***as don’t put in no work, for real though Y’all don’t want us in person Y’all know how that s**t get On God s** my d**k B***h we roll in threes, two Blicky’s shooting and one driver, that’s how it’s suppose to be P***y, you ain’t never k** a body, can’t get close to me We gon’ keep on flipping, spinning blocks until they all deceased Invest in a ratchet or a casket (Blicky, the Blicky, the Blicky) They never be where they suppose to be I got the heat to control streets (Control the streets) I bet this d**k will control your chicks (Yeesh, yeesh) Couple head shots, gon’ expose his dreams You caught a opp and then flew to Miami (Yeah right) That n***a lied All of my opps took a trip to Miami (Pussies) I wonder why I’m with them Snipers and Blicky’s don’t panic (Sniper, Blicky) Either way n***as die I just came home, I beat it, don’t care to go back That young n***a wilding (Gang, Gang, Gang) If the n***a Real-Right, tell the driver bend right G Herbo get herb too Post on my pic then delete, I’ll murk you But shout out to Chiraq, I know where the guys at Spinning with Rugers, so you better duck Or they aim where your mind at Grrrrtttttt, boom!