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Better hope you die a gangster, gangster, gangsta Super, out of here, yeah I hope you die a gangster I hope you plan on game, there's too much blood on these fingers Send out a headshot, put them O's in an asshole I'm running on X pills, I'm out of control I'm running on X pills, I'm out of control What you do with my neck piece? Woah What you do with my neck piece? Woah What you do with my neck piece? Woah I had to do my thing, I do my thing, I spread my wings For Myesha, for Myesha, I had a crush when you was real We eat Benihanas for breakfast, we got a chef at the crib We got a semi auto, you the desperado, this a motherfuckin' trip Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 in the whip, yeah You can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah 60 K on sip, 100 rounds in the clip Somebody playin', they got spilt Went I hit the set you better dip Spit the block with the AK, I heard everything got flipped Letras de cancionesIn one hour smoked a zip, it took me one hour, she got drip Gram of kush in a leaf Told you niggas I'm a beast If you try your luck, it ain't sweet I'ma put these niggas right beneath me I make my way throughout the East My plug 10 with the molly I put your main in the knotty I double barrel with the shotty You pump fakin' with some riders You lucky they ain't hit your mama A lot of pain in my body Got me smokin' marijuana Pulled up in his side of trenches Pulled up, get a nigga whacked Pulled up, took a nigga ho Pluto running through the racks I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 in the whip, yeah You can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah Just got a Black Card... just to go in the wallet Soon as I go in your jump? I'ma go in your pocket They call me East Atlanta Santa, I'ma fuck up the profit I'm the Grinch that stole Christmas, I might go in your stocking I'm talkin'... too cocky, I got so much juice My wrist is... too rocky, they done let Wop loose I'm talkin'... plug talk, this don't pertain to you 'Cause I'm a trap astronaut, I use cocaine for fuel You got a meetin' with my shooters, it's been arranged for you I bust your head and celebrate, man this champagne's for you You're talkin' gangster but you'se a lame, this ain't the lane for you This FBG and 1017, this ain't the gang for you It's Wop I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster I hope you die a gangster Man I'm pissed off, I'm pissed off, somebody outta get killed All of my instincts done told me that these niggas, they ain't real Man I flew off on the scene, I had 300 in the whip, yeah You can't even understand why they glorify my drip, yeah From Letras Mania