Ogd - Clash lyrics

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Ogd - Clash lyrics

[Chorus:] Clash, all I do is clash Keep that lane and take your milage man I like my drapes to clash Clash, all I do is clash If you walking I'm gonna splash you And if I see you we gonna clash Clash, all I do is clash Mix the poochie with the gucci I don't like my clothes to match Clash, all my sh** be clashing I hate hurdles with a pa**ion I see it when we smashing [Verse 1:] Clashing, clashing, all my n***as clashing Past around that trash man You know these n***as trashing n***as got k**ed you use to I don't know what happened Playing card with Gucci Matched that chain, turned into fashion I just thought of rapping Now we start trapping Close to as fine n***a You can call me papi You can call me daddy Cause I use to sew your manhood Gucci Mane your ganster I got groceries to the grammys Run through some valleys And my cutla** super reckless Hold that crystal had to worries And my n***as set the damange Talk my n***as on And the hood couldn't even handle it These n***as I role with, will k** these n***as in your family [Chorus] [Verse 2:] I mix the pimping with the rapping b**h Twin from robbery, know I'd slap you Know I done this sh** Call Gucci cause he only want to spot this sh** (spot this sh**) The only real n***a first From Alanta peak It's Ogd, I bought this sh** for real Ain't never have a motherf**ing gangster real This 20k I got them white for real Call these motherf**ers They like keep it real Ogd (Ogd), don't follow me (don't follow me) You know I pack that steal Then I pop a n***a for real Don't violate me I ain't calling nobody I'm on my own n***a Ask the streets about me O.G.D [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Put that money I be smashing Two hundred on the dash Pick that a** and smash Marley's got me clash hands Designers mix match things Haters with a pa**ion Send me to hoe The way these diamonds be flashing Go out selling it They mean a ten clashing Choppers get the blast p**y jump side like a rabbit Yea my b**h is cla**ic Exoctic but she nasty Money over b**hes So the money I got to have it You think I'm gonna die The way these diamonds got these carrots The haters talk behind my back I think they need a parrot You think I'm in my zone The way you n***a be trapping I'll haunt you with these bullets When they gone to get the clappers [Chorus]