Vontae Thomas - Rooster Talk lyrics

[Hook:Bandgang Biggs] Catch him out in traffic, turn into a mad man Take that n***a life until the mag jammed Move work, hit the block, and let the bag dance f** you n***as talking bout, real bag man Meet the plug, in and out, really add bands Why yo n***a talking bout how he done had bands (f** outta here) We don't wanna here that boosting talk f** a chicken lil n***a, this that rooster talk, rooster talk You got chicken ima show you how that rooster talk, rooster talk If you got chicken n***a welcome to that rooster talk [Bandgang AJ] Swiping with them k**ers, they itching, they on a [?] Master [?] , them withdraws a b**h 40's with the beam, extendos all in the b**h I'm in the hood with that sh** Corn looking like a brick n***a Money counting, steady clicking Rooster got me limping, money Louie's ain't got strings, so these hoes ain't tripping I ain't sweating a b**h, not from afar I got that old macdonald on me b**h Welcome to the farm [Bandgang Biggs] I open my eyes, look at my watch, im whipping these spots Say yo cop, bettern't f** up, these n***as the cops I'm father Glock I'm tuckin and duckin, i'm letting off rounds Sweating off pounds, that's how sh** be when you letting off rounds I play on the block, swiping my sack, this sh** is so hot But if i should stop, then i won't eat, b**h i rather not b**h i rather die, that's how sh** be, put it on god Bandgang broke, now that is a joke, put it on yal b**h [Hook: Bandgang Biggs] Catch him out in traffic, turn into a mad man Take that n***a life until the mag jammed Move work, hit the block, and let the bag dance f** you n***as talking bout, real bag man Meet the plug, in and out, really add bands Why yo n***a talking bout how he done had bands (f** outta here) We don't wanna here that boostin talk f** a chicken lil n***a, this that rooster talk, rooster talk You got chicken ima show you how that rooster talk, rooster talk If you got chicken n***a welcome to that rooster talk [Bandgang Masoe] Loaded and its going out of east oakland Still thugging, thousand miles away with strap pokin 46 in 2 liter, don't know where i'm going But i'm still going b**h, driving goo goo where we goin? Making home feel like i scored and done went touched down When the shot, last seconds scum, this rolli bust down Pay rent, threw a couple pounds of that good sound Catch me off coast, in family coven, b**hes love our style Little n***a 17, he don't budge a smile Talkin all loud gone get you hit all in yo f**ing frown Making money clean, money never count the dirty Love my brother dirty, we run hoes like Kentucky derby n***as selling hit juice, sh** pink as Kirby DD just got 30, he ain't guap no more, his strap curry , Money