Bang Lyrics by Shyne

Bang Lyrics

    [verse 1]
    I done fucked *the baddest bitches* ask trina
    Give her coke to stuff between her, said she loved my demeanor
    Felonies and misdemeanors, i'm villified
    I just, rap on the side, black mafia ties
    Prolific words, i speak for the unheard
    Niggas who love guns, money, girls, and furs
    Sittin up in the mans', runnin shit
    On the phone moving bricks, orderin hits
    Perfected the game, diamond infested the chain
    Niggas think i change i just wanna watch 'em change
    Livin the american dream
    Drugs, violence, sex, and loaded magazines
    That's all i could talk about in these sixteen
    Cuz that's all i live, ask tibs
    It is what is, either graveyards or consecutive life bids, shit

    Chorus 4x:
    Niggas wanna bang, we could bang
    Niggas wanna slang, we could slang

    [verse 2]
    Niggas wanna bang we could bang out
    Til the clip's done, or your vital arteries hang out
    Ham a cot, bad boy, the black camelot
    Raise the price and connect the dots
    Through life's journies, all i need is a couple of mack mils
    A couple of mils and good attorneys
    Skatin on big blades, goin out in a blaze in my last days
    I'll probably die with a bad drug trade or an overdose
    Without tellin my moms, sorry it was close
    My wife and my bitch fightin over my notes
    All my niggas skied north makin a toast
    Til hell, just gimme bad bitches in channel
    Connects wit, chinese cartels and that new sl
    And the judge that's gon' set my bail

    Chorus

    [verse 3]
    I'm on top of this shit, look at the wrists
    Too much rocks in this shit, aint that a bitch
    Make hits, til my last breath
    With that nigga, the p u double f
    So lay back in the cut motherfucker 'fore you get shot
    I kill niggas on the spot like a cop
    I did it all four seasons suites to a cot
    Give bitches nothing but breathmints and this cock
    Call me what, there's a way to eat
    And all we got is sports, entertainment or the streets
    I'm in deep, think of citibank when i sleep
    Ching, ching like i was from shaolin
    Brooklyn nigga what you say, keep stylin
    My air force ones you couldn't walk a mile in
    I love politics, narcotics, and violins
    Bad boy forever, we move in silence

    Chorus

SEARCH LYRICS