Juicy J
Gang Shit (Knife Talk Original)
[Verse 1: Project Pat & 21 Savage]
I gotta feed the streets, my pistol gon' bleed the streets
Ski mask on my face, sometimes you got to cheat
To stay ahead in this bitch-ard (Gang), drank syrup like it's liquor
Street life'll have you catchin' up to God quicker (Yeah, gang)
Sticker, AK-40 to your liver
Let the chopper bang on you like a Blood or a Cripper (Gang)
Flipper, so much bread, I'm a gymnast
Made so much money off of dummies, a ventriloquist (Yeah, gang)
Or a puppeteer, diamonds in my ear
New foreign ride every year, I'm in foreign gear (Gang)
Plug show up with the pack, it's gon' disappear
Stick shift hustle, I stay in fifth gear (Yeah, gang)

[Verse 2: 21 Savage]
I'm mister body catcher, Slaughter Gang soul snatcher
Ain't no regular F-150, this a fuckin' Raptor (Yeah, gang)
No capper, street n***a, not a rapper
Chopper hit him and he turned into a booty clapper (Gang)
Smith & Wesson, I'm 4L Gang reppin'
We done baptized more n***as than the damn reverend (Yeah, gang)
Kappa Alpha, me and my gang, we do all the steppin'
Who you checkin'? This FN shoot East to West End (Gang)

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on, n***a (Yeah, gang)
[Verse 3: 21 Savage]
I bought a Lambo', I came from a Monte Carlo
Sellin' elbows, I did it right and went holo' (Gang)
Back in the seventies, I prolly woulda robbed Pablo
Have my comprade knock the meat out your taco (Gang)
You sneak dissin', you gon' get some teeth missin'
You weak bitches, we raw strip and kill snitches (Gang)
Your bitch diggin', she diggin' all this damn drip and
I'm chef sinkin', I pink slip, the ink different (Yeah, gang)
We keep blickies, and you know the weed sticky
My finger itchy, the Glock like to leave hickeys (Gang)
Your shooters iffy, a street punk could never diss me
I come straight up out the six, and we don't spare sissies (Yeah, gang)
Let them bullets fly, sang his ass a lullaby
We don't rock-a-bye that baby, hit him in the eye (Gang)
I done let some n***as slide 'cause my show price high
It's a couple of you n***as who was 'posed to die (Yeah)

[Chorus: 21 Savage]
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on
N***a, gang shit, that's all I'm on
Gang shit, that's all I'm on (Yeah)
[Outro: 21 Savage with Choir]
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, I'm gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang
N***a, gang-gang, n***a
Let it bang (Gang), bang, let it bang, bang
'Til his brains hang and his mama sang
And the pastor sang and them bullets sang (Gang)
And them choppers sang and the choir sang (Yeah)
N***a gang-gang, gang-gang, gang-gang
N***a gang-gang, gang-gang, gang-gang
N***a gang-gang, gang-gang, gang gang
N***a gang-gang, gang-gang, gang-gang, n***a
Gang