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Gang (Feat. Trav & Neek Bucks)

Just clean my fancy car

Picked up my fancy clothes

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only niggas spending that Byrd gang money.Just clean my fancy car

Picked up my fancy clothes

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only niggas spending that Byrd gang money.Reminiscing on my first slant,

By the time I was sipping on my first Schlitz

Hit the game, I started as a look out,

See the fly cars that the big wheelies pushed out,

Dirt bikes popping wheelies by the cookout, that was that summer,

I was thirst to be plumper. It pays better but the risk was worst,

Save the fly leather copping kicks with the work.

It didnt work; I was fucken up the re-up.

Bottles at the tunnel, that was 98, I called papa for the bundles,

An easy ten grand, it felt like a hundred,

These Gucci belts by the stomach, with guns in them.

Its only wealth that we want, if we run wit em

Till the death, until the feds come and get em

Byrd gang money, it started off that Byrd Kane Money

New cars, in that third lane money!Just clean my fancy car,

Picked up my fancy clothes,

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only real niggas spending that Byrd gang money.Getting money is the hardest,

Your first hundred grand is a job

Your first cool million, you're an artist.

Especially if the niggas up the block, sell garbage

Told it, crumbles all apart when you hold it

Wasn't naturally born a crook, I was molded

Drugs kept my uncles in the green, so I sold it

Even learned to smell a good grade through the packing

Headed Midwest and got financial backing

Started networking with the wheelies on credit

Any concepts of being robbed I was debited

Anybody get it, don't come a day later with the eigth money

Got to play it out, cause I said it

Courts an acquittal, coming in the club with an entourage

Me I'm the boss in the middle.

The brain and the bran roc-a-house rope around the neck

A lot of letters for the chain, and the charm. Come on manJust clean my fancy car

Picked up my fancy clothes

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only niggas spending that Byrd gang money.At a young age, no bricks just grams

Nigga stuck, then your mans a flip

The situation real, then your mans a hit

You slow on the get-a-way, the can you get

You circle the block, you play track and field

A lot of real niggas on that track got killed

But you know me forever manning up,

Never sit down when I pee, forever standing up

I'm a boss, so I'm calling the shots,

Big homie, pioneer of the block

You wanna pump, nigga Ill tell you when and where at

Don't face-fight; I'm not the one to stare at.

Matter of fact dog, you and your man sits,

In the back off cop car, dog, pointing your index

I guess you could, cause you a Sammy the Bull

But somebody gonna die if a hammer get pulled.Just clean my fancy car

Picked up my fancy clothes

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only niggas spending that Byrd gang money.Just clean my fancy car

Picked up my fancy clothes

And we only in the hot spot,

No, we got the bomb,

We got the bomb

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money,

This is Byrd gang money

Only niggas spending that Byrd gang money

Songwriters

CHAD DEXTER BURNETTE, DUANE STACY BRIDGEFORD, JOSEPH JONES, MEL MATRIX, MICHAEL J. CLERVOIXPublished by

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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