lirik lagu cassidy - bang bang
[hook]
[hook]
i put the beat in banger, used to gettin money
n-gg- you know i’m no stranger to the hustle
trapped up like a raider from the tomb, bossing my platoon
i do sh-t that you boy can’t do
i’m known in the streets as a n-gg- that can get it
don’t move an inch or the beat’s on your fitty, trust me you can get it
yeah n-gg- you can get it
throw the hammer back and watch the motherf-cker bang, bang, bang
if i’m not the best n-gg- then i got next
cause i talk that sh-t like a n-gg- with hot breath
you n-gg-s not threats them thangs are banging
things can change if you never got shot, yeah
i’m quick the bus like a man that never got s-x
but you don’t get the message like a blind mand that got text
i used to love to box until i shot tex
now i never broad, like a broad that ain’t got br–sts
i’m not pressed, i don’t wanna talk
man, my motherf-cking gun sparking
make a n-gg- sommersault,
i shoot the d-mn thing and make a n-gg- hand spring
or i spark still and make a n-gg- cartwheel
matter fact, rap the ghat, turn into an acrobat
had the cat flipping round before i put the pistol down
you lame mouth you better keep my name out
i ain’t in the gang, i don’t bang, i just bang out
[hook]
i’m back out riding, gun in your hand but let the center like
shotgun with the shotgun seat reclining
i pop up on n-gg-s, let it off
close shop up on n-gg-s, infection, stay in the cut on n-gg-s
i’m in a whole nother section
i can look in the mirror, my reflection, move like inception
extraordinary gentleman what more could i say?
got the picture in the cut, like dorian gray
i’m a shooter like allan quarter main
i give you morning pain, first page in the hard n-gg-, hall of fame
durain derock on the beat, as p be the ghost
i make it pop on the streets
traveling in the spot for a week
one eye open put the glock on the sleep
[hook]
i let the thang blam, they call me the rain man
i’m out of bullets get them hung n-gg- hang man
you get me hang it up, these problems i flame it up
bang it up, snapback, long tea bangertock
yeah, my block pitching, yeah i got pigeons
i’m in the cook and i f-ck with b-tches that got kitchens
if i can’t find jordan then i ride pipping
i leave bl–dy and skin red like rob griffin
home real spit, the shotty blast you gonn see the body bags
men in black no will smith
real sh-t, used to grind and we still grind
beefing with the grill time, full metal steel time
n-gg-s getting stole on tryina steal mine
c-ck back peel mine, tape em up real time
chubby, the mask on them berettas bang, sound clear homes?
round here, we gonn let it bang bang
[hook] x 2
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