Music Video

22Gz - Blixky Gang Freestyle [Official Music Video]
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
22Gz
22Gz
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Kevohn John
Kevohn John
Songwriter
Yanick St. Juste
Yanick St. Juste
Songwriter
Jeffrey Mark Alexander
Jeffrey Mark Alexander
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Nicholas Cavalieri
Nicholas Cavalieri
Mixing Engineer
Ghosty
Ghosty
Producer

Lyrics

Told my shooter, "don't hit no legs" (Blixky da Blixky da Blixky da Blixky) Y'all know I keep one for the head Do a hit then we fled (skrt skrt skrt skrt skrt) (Blixky da Blixky da Blixky da Blixky) (Gang gang gang gang gang) Move bitch I'm distrubing the peace, got me feeling like Luda (skrt skrt) New drip (drip drip racks racks racks racks) I'm rocking Amiris, this shit ain't no buddha Get hit in the stomach (Pussy) All of his guts and intestines he threw up Got rid of the gun (Got rid' of that shit) I had to re-up on a new on Henny, no georgies Spin through the flossy I'm at the Barclays, and I got floor seats Treeshes, babas, tryna give orgies Back out, I ain't tryna end up on Maury Too dripped out (Too dripped out) Black rain when the gang flip out Clips stick out Reload once the shit slip out Spin 'till we nauseous Bending it often Cop it, fuck costs We made 'em forfeit Pull up no warnings Hop out and scorch 'em Better be cautious, balted 'em up Walked him straight to a coffin (Walked him straight to his death) They ain't taking no shots (Pussy) They ain't scoring 22 the nigga they rap 'bout (Suck my dick) They ain't the same when the strap out If you ain't know, you should check on my background If he ain't dead then spin back 'round Met a little treesh and she tryna get slapped out Ended up blowing her back out Fuck on a balcony I made her tap out (mata mata) (Gang, gang, gang) When we spin, Duck Keep that blixk tucked If he trip up He won't get up Rest in piss to that boy who got hit with a hollow Now he in gelato (now he in gelato)(Gang, gang) It's still free the twirlers I'm screamin' free Kodak, I'm screamin' free Ralo (Twirl! Twirl!) Feel like Tony Montana I shoot, you get left Euro steppin' like manu With a treesh in Milano She driving the boat She downing Moscato Clapping like standing ovation (Pussy) Brodie gon' chase him, I don't do chasers Count hella' guap, got paper (racks, racks) Shit'll get dangerous We don't fear danger Shooters gon' flock out the wrangler (Suck my dick) (Gang, gang, gang)
Writer(s): Bradley Moss, John Kevohn, Jeffrey Alexander Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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