Soulja Boy — On Gang 2019

[Verse 1: Soulja Boy] Young Draco ain't gon play bout them racks, bout them stacks Call up my plug, where the fuck them packs at? Call up my shooters, where the fuck them straps at? Can’t talk on the phone, cause I know 12 been tapped that I got a hundred fifty racks in my backpack Nigga think it's sweet, but on my mama I'm gon [?] that Hit him witht the chopper cause he was asking for that You wanna [?] Imma tax him for that I’m skirting round with them racks AK 47 came with a shoulder strap [?] 2010 Choppers and BMW in the Benz [?] murk your best friend Stand in the kitchen, I whip up a ten Young Draco, I trap out the dope hole My trap jumpin like a yo yo Oo young nigga trap with a [?] Try the funny shit, get hit with the draco [Verse 2: OMB Bloodbath] I cannot trust a soul Watching my reer view, [?] Bitch I be [?] like I'm from the four Imma big blood [?] nose What was you thinking bout? [?] demans out Nigga we just had bought Nemons out [?] we squeezing bout [?] on the chain Nigga play gang, then we busting your brain I been asleep, I was stuck on the drank Put him to sleep, tryna fuck with the gang [Verse 3: Sauce Brazy] [?] got paint by the lieder Ride in the herse, I be killing these niggas Like a fauset, i be drippin, lil bitch Ride with the stick cause shit can get [?] My killers deadly, riding around with the [?] [?] my niggas [?] Mansion in the hills, no neighbors That's living, pour up the lean when I get in my feelings Double cup muddy, I'm sippin on red [?] rap money, then put it on your head I remember I was busting down spread Now I ride around in a big body Benz Two foreign hoes, fuck her and her friend Riding with Draco with the draco, lord forgive me, yeah he know that I sin Hop out, and I kill you and your friend [Verse 4: Peso Peso] [?] put the Glock to your chin [?] Bentley what I'm sliding in Glasses on me, these Versace lenses You dn't want no problems, I came from the bottom [?] Don't make me throw you in the grave We trappin, never had a day job I'm selling them P’s out a racecar I scoot up, and I shoot your face off I splash and I drip when I walk in the bank My diamonds more wet than a motherfucking lake I’m in the trap wearing two tone I break a bitch, I don't do no dates All of these racks, I be feeling like Chapo [?] I sware that you don’t wanna fuck with [?] Splash up on you, and we knock out your taco [Verse 5: Yung Saint Louis] [?] [?] like Tyson Don't got no racks, we can't talk about prices [?] feel like fighting I'm always ready Keep a stick, my thoughts is deadly Two grams of that Molly, I’m rolling heavy Just ran through a hundred, I'm getting sweaty This bitch that I'm toating spit 50 shots Fuck all the opps, we spin any block [?] Glock If I don't know him [?] up on the spot We shoot up [?] at every spot They don't play with my name, they better notI be shippin packs, we be selling out That nigga a bitch, he'll sell you out [Verse 6: Murdah Baby] Know that it's blood in this bitch Know we gon trap out the mansion Watch my diamonds, they dancing We toating sticks in the Wraith Tell you you a bitch to your face [?] that case Kicking in doors and running in houses [?] thousands Bad bitch, I call her [?] I got rich off a one way Flew your bitch out on a one way She wanna stay, but I made her go anyway I got some stories and some times where I made it snow I was selling work to make it to my last show We was sippin Ac, we ain't know what we was sippin on We was red rag sliding, [?] [?] that's what you trippin on