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lirik lagu horseshoe g.a.n.g - here we go

[verse 1: julius luciano]
im the truth, but no sojourner
my rims k!lla, the door suicide, low, low murda
tell yo ho slurp on my long pole
my mojo work her, i coach whole herds of
bad divas, i’m a fast teacha, i’m no slow learner
the flow gone murk ya
if not, im at yo show, in row four
the fo’ fo’ burn ya
shots finna melt ya skin, oh no derma-
tologist, helpin him, i goes on further
dollars you seldom spend, slow dough earner
not getting wealth is sin, got my nina
and my wife beater, call us ike and tina but though i’m no turner
oh, i’m oh so dope, both coasts know
most hoes, jump on my stick like pogos, word to my old bro
crook showed me the ropes
goes so hard, now i’m no joke, word up!

[hook: kenny siegel]
up in the club, yeah – with my thugs, yeah (here we go)
if n-ggas mug, yeah – i got the snub, yeah (here we go)
poppin bub, yeah – a couple sl-ts, yeah (here we go)
tryna cut, yeah – im tryna touch, yeah (here we go)
where the hoes, point em out
where they at, there they go
let em know, what we bout
throwin stacks like ey! (ey)…ey! (ey)…ey! (ey)
we throwin stacks like ey! (ey)…ey! (ey)…ey! (ey)

[verse 2: kenny siegel]
i tell the jeweler stone me, throw some rocks on me
then i’ll go out and loiter the cold streets of long beach
searchin for a chicken who might loan me her dome piece
i’m limping when i stroll, yeah, i pivot when i’m mosey
you know me like virgins, i never gave a f-ck
i’m a boss listen up, i toss chickens up
that’s right i flip birds like i’m pitchin plenty of keys
or givin people the finger, listen siegel’s no singer
but i, blow notes, and yeah i hold notes
im talkin them c-notes, and yeah i throw notes
my fitted brim is touchin my nose, its so low
but i still see you haters, so the mugs a no-no
cuz my strap love smoking and blowing, it stay loaded
i’ll go in your clothes, then shots’ll go in your clothing
i’m holdin them chromes, i’ll pop, unload and explode it
my necklace is frozen, my watch is cold as my stroll is

[verse 3: dice dinero]
i’m pullin up at the club, with a dodger blue six
with about twenty karats hanging from my neck and wrist
in the vip, popping nothing but bottles of cris’ (yeah)
but it’ll popping that glock, if n-ggas poppin they lips (yeah)
i’m reppin the circle gang, and c-o-b around here (round here!)
rockin white t’s and ice around here
you gotta respect my swag, my feet match my customized jag
n0body on the corner got swag
like us, i stay on top of my cake like icing
i one night you b-tches, that’s why you think i’m trifling
i use my heat to get dough, i pimp my ride
i swear to god, you chain-sn-tchas’ll fill up your ride
with bullets, cuz me and my clique don’t play that sh-t
we stay in the club, with a glock and a clip
mackin a b-tch, makin it rain with a bottle of hen’
til the bartender yell his last call and then we out this b-tch
(c-o-b!)

- lirik lagu horseshoe g a n g

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