Jim Jones - Gang lyrics

Just clean my fancy car Picked up my fancy clothes And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only n***as spending that Byrd gang money. Just clean my fancy car Picked up my fancy clothes And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only n***as spending that Byrd gang money. Reminiscing on my first slant, By the time I was sipping on my first Schlitz Hit the game, I started as a look out, See the fly cars that the big wheelies pushed out, Dirt bikes popping wheelies by the cookout, that was that summer, I was thirst to be plumper. It pays better but the risk was worst, Save the fly leather copping kicks with the work. It didnt work; I was f**en up the re-up. Bottles at the tunnel, that was 98, I called papa for the bundles, An easy ten grand, it felt like a hundred, These Gucci belts by the stomach, with guns in them. Its only wealth that we want, if we run wit em Till the d**h, until the feds come and get em Byrd gang money, it started off that Byrd Kane Money New cars, in that third lane money! Just clean my fancy car, Picked up my fancy clothes, And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only real n***as spending that Byrd gang money. Getting money is the hardest, Your first hundred grand is a job Your first cool million, you're an artist. Especially if the n***as up the block, sell garbage Told it, crumbles all apart when you hold it Wasn't naturally born a crook, I was molded Drugs kept my uncles in the green, so I sold it Even learned to smell a good grade through the packing Headed Midwest and got financial backing Started networking with the wheelies on credit Any concepts of being robbed I was debited Anybody get it, don't come a day later with the eigth money Got to play it out, cause I said it Courts an acquittal, coming in the club with an entourage Me I'm the boss in the middle. The brain and the bran roc-a-house rope around the neck A lot of letters for the chain, and the charm. Come on man Just clean my fancy car Picked up my fancy clothes And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only n***as spending that Byrd gang money. At a young age, no bricks just grams n***a stuck, then your mans a flip The situation real, then your mans a hit You slow on the get-a-way, the can you get You circle the block, you play track and field A lot of real n***as on that track got k**ed But you know me forever manning up, Never sit down when I pee, forever standing up I'm a boss, so I'm calling the shots, Big homie, pioneer of the block You wanna pump, n***a Ill tell you when and where at Don't face-fight; I'm not the one to stare at. Matter of fact dog, you and your man sits, In the back off cop car, dog, pointing your index I guess you could, cause you a Sammy the Bull But somebody gonna die if a hammer get pulled. Just clean my fancy car Picked up my fancy clothes And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only n***as spending that Byrd gang money. Just clean my fancy car Picked up my fancy clothes And we only in the hot spot, No, we got the bomb, We got the bomb This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money, This is Byrd gang money Only n***as spending that Byrd gang money