Gangsta Funktion (feat. Young Drummer Boy, Mr. Criminal, Mr. Shadow & Young Dopey)
King Lil G
Rap
65 589
Kredity
PERFORMING ARTISTS
King Lil G
Vocals
Young Drummer Boy
Vocals
Mr. Criminal
Vocals
Mr. Shadow
Vocals
Young Dopey
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Uriel Ramirez
Songwriter
Roberto Fabian Garcia
Songwriter
Rigoberto J Diaz
Songwriter
Jose Anguiano
Songwriter
Byron Castillo
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
LeiDontPlay
Producer
Texty
Ya, let's ride, let's ride, let's ride
Come dance for me
47 in this bitch, that's right
I want 250k upfront
When you catch the enemy, you better rush one
She a pretty lil' bitch, she a plus one
If you chillin' round me, you better bust guns
Bitch, I like to tote guns, semi automatics
47 boy, 'bout to make a hood classic
Come from the ghetto, where this shit get tough
Join the enemies, then you 'bout to get snuffed (brat)
If I should die, before I wake
I pray the Lord, my soul to take
I got a sexy lil' bitch I gotta see at eight
And she got an attitude, she ain't got no patience
I'm a rich southsider, all da hoes love it
Million dollar deal without wack 100
See these ratchet ass bitches gone fuck for the money
How the fuck you get signed, but you drivin' a bucket
Hoes got it all twisted, I'ma show you a time
Everybody gets a target when my soilders align
I don't side with anybody who be siding with opps
I'ma throw a gangsta party when he finally dies
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
All strapped with a all black hoodie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
All strapped with a all black hoodie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Listen, ay
Ay, I popped two pills with the Duce
Lil' bitch drink it up like it's koolaid
Hell yeah, I need my money by the due date
Stop playin' 'cause these bullets got no name
All blacked out, strapped with the beam on it
You know the bitch tryna chill, I told her lean on it
Whole gang in this bitch, better think on it
If you hear about my name, you better speak on it
That lil' homie caught life, so I'm stressed out
Stop talkin' 'cause you playin' with yo' life now
All this talk about beef, better pipe down
If you want it, you could get it on sight now, stupid
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
All strapped with a all black hoodie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Better call for back up, hide yo' bitch
'Bout to hit 'em wit' that Cali gangsta shit
This is it, this is how lit it get
When you fuck with the West Coast, one percent
Ya he went, whatever he said he meant
Me and G pull up heavyweight event
Panties wet, your girl gettin' so excited
Called her a hoe and she didn't mind it
619 to the 213
Got hoes waiting at the double tree
They all know what it's 'bout to be
When they come around me and KLG
Gangsta shit lost in a cloud of smoke
Opps know better don't want no smoke, nah
I'm not the one you wanna provoke
I'm a motherfuckin' threat, go straight for the throat
You motherfucker
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
All strapped with a all black hoodie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Two-step, slide like this
Do the E walk, I do mine like this (E's up)
Blued up when I walk in this bitch
I'm an essay but mom mistake me for a crip
This L.A. and we press full force
Last bitch left me, couldn't do it no more
She said I'm too much, always gettin' in trouble
Told her jump in the foreign, drink this Hen' and shut up
Headed to the intercontinental suite
Lookin' out the sky view as I'm beatin' them cheeks
Turnt up, I know this the West Coast
So serious, I got that shit tatted on my dome
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
All strapped with a all black hoodie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Gangstas don't dance, we boogie
Look, Mr. Criminal coming bustin' like a baller
Dispenca on the tira enemigas they want nada
King Lil G, Mr. Criminal representing for the raza
Most sold back to back ever since Kid Frost
Smokin' up on this kush, hella high 'bout to lift off
Foos hella soft, plucked eyebrows and lip gloss
Hustle what this shit cost
Raised by the pits and them rots, we the motherfuckin' big dogs
If it ain't 'Pac, Snoop or Dre
You ain't sold more than me and King Lil G
In the last 20 years, check the facts in the motherfuckin' industry
Ain't many with brown skin that sold millions
Smoking wit' the homie, fresh out the pin chillin'
Written by: Alex Gonzalez, Byron Castillo, Jose Anguiano, Rigoberto J Diaz, Roberto Fabian Garcia, Uriel Ramirez
