How It Goes

Oh my, a bitch don’t like broke boys
So if she leave me then she fuckin' wit' my homeboys
Rich gang, gold band, blue strip gang
Thought the game was on lock 'til the Crip came
Bust brains it’s a Benz not a Mustang
Sippin' out the bottle we don’t need a cup maine
You can tell by the test that I’m gang bangin'
That bitch’ll fuck you if you broke but ya name ringin'
Tired of these niggas claimin' my city
I’m the only Crip poppin' that is not Nipsey
I been got the strap before they shot 50
Sold crack to a smoker lookin' like Whitney
Blue rag hangin' out the back side, only on the left side, yeah that’s the Crip
side
Snoop said it first I just said it better
Fuck a stripper named «Fendi» in a Gucci sweater
Whole lotta gang shit, gang shit
All my ex’s pussy good but they ain’t shit
Whole lotta gang shit, gang shit
All my ex’s pussy good but they ain’t shit
Oh my, it’s just me and my wolves
I put the bros before hoes I need racks for a show
That how it goes
Oh my, mama ain’t raise a hoe
Big gun let it blow just to let a nigga know
Don’t try me
I’ll take the 12 on a high speed, like a hot seat
All black I think I’m Spike Lee
Is you rollin' bitch? I might be
I don’t wear condoms with the wifey and I don’t give a fuck if you don’t like me
Uhh
Jiggle on the jet ski’s lookin' crazy
My patna really in the kitchen out here cookin' baby
Hoes like dope boys
Oh my, bitch don’t like broke boys
I said it last verse I just said it better
Fuck a stripper named «Fendi» in a Louie sweater
Whole lotta gang shit, gang shit
All my ex’s pussy good but they ain’t shit
Whole lotta gang shit, gang shit
All my ex’s pussy good but they ain’t shit