lirik lagu dj screw – gangsta strut freestyle
[fat pat]
when we put it down, yeah we do it g style
it’s the p-a-t (p-a-t) sippin’ through my freestyle
talkin’ bout that grindin’, bumper kit reclinin’
yellow hoes mindin
i’m comin’ down, and it’s texas rollin’ on 4’s
it’s the fat pat i’mma roll down slow
knock ’em down, knock ’em off, slam my candy do’
in my gangsta strut
like we (?) crooks
i’m still rollin’ bumpers, kid, i don’t give a f-ck
let me bend ’em down
pop trunks around
young n-gga throw down the pistol wooded surround
in my d-mn trunk
i ain’t no crunk
still hangin’ wit that boy wood, corey blount
me and big moe’s comin’ down in the jag
wing on the brag when the punks leather made
cus we gonna wreck with (?) for the nine-six
comin’ down slow on choppas in the mix
still up in the game
ain’t nothin’ changed
gotta bigger name
now i got fame
what they wanna do?
still f-ckin’ with the screw
it’s that p-a to the t, yeah n-gga thought you knew
you can’t play a g, can’t see me from a long long way
in the sky, so high on cloud nine
man, ho, you a young player stayin’ down
watch me up in the corner
blowin’ marijuana
rollin’ with that pat in the lincoln
with they blinker turner blinking
in the turning lane
sw-nged out ride cus we on 4’s. mane
roll down ost
when you n-ggas see me
still rollin’ drop-tops with that voice-cb
yeah they want it good, we still ride real
a lot of my homies yeah they gone and dead
but you gotta get it, yeah you gotta grind
i’mma put it down, gotta get mine
ain’t gonna trip, role moe’s ship
this time i’m comin’ 19s with this grip on the grind
callin’ on 4’s watch a young player cryin’
fog lights on
grippin’ till dawn
on my mobile phone
on the way home
my partner in the f-ckin ‘crib
fat pat yeah you know the name is straight (?)
livin’ in the (?)
another f-ckin’ story
you know the pat ain’t never gon’ worry
ridin’ n-ggas (?) straight drinkin’
comin’ down (?) yeah that n-gga now they blinking
hit the d-mn lock, lookin’ so blue
rode my alberta impala at the hood
w-ssup with the ward
w-ssup hiram clarke
w-ssup third ward
w-ssup south park
w-ssup southwest
smokin’ on the stress
comin’ down a slab, man the slab is dressed
two a f-ckin’ (?) a nice big grid
popped up with the size desk on the crib
we gon’ wreck the mic
we up in your sight
don’t give a d-mn if you hate us in the night
why we grip down? cus we like six deep
sw-ngas and blades out here on the creep
choppin’ boys up
sw-ngin’ boys up
poppin’ on the trunk and i don’t give a f-ck
huh, in the gangsta strut
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