Fetti Cash - Bang Lyrics
Bang(chorus 2x):Bang, your head against the wallYall don't wanna go there I'ma go thereYall don't wanna flow here U.S rep hereBANG...BANG...BANG...BANG...BANG(Verse): Red EyeWhat you know about run up in a cell-cell with the shankMake'em yell-yell hope he don'tStressing mail perfect time on the phone-phoneA minute in the mind cut him in the dome-domeGoing toe to toe tower quick to blow-blowOne to drop the weapon last is the first to go-goCell block life really gets trife-trife for the lunies watching youSh*t with the knife-knifePlastic gloves to checking your doodoo smack you hard like a b*tchMake you boo who, su wooHear the call-call be ready to brawl-brawlOr end up on a plate cause you stall-stallPack risk-risk take a flight risk get rid of the weaponAnd become a good actress, observation rule judge wanna get-getSh*t it out to put it in the mouth taste my own sh*t(chorus 2x)(Verse 2): Gold FishAshy to classy homie please pass me the hammerLocking the block down like a slammer, spit that hood grammarStay scheming like I'm montana letting off clips the size of bananasI'm feeding the gorillas rolling with those caps peelersLeave a n*gga burnt like a blunt of scrillerA known dealer push the hard to the back yard yall faggot n*ggas areToo soft to go hard talking bout that bullsh*t you get knocked off quickYall like slutty chicks stay riding n*ggas dicksThe back talk a get a n*gga mashed up, light hook to your chinLeave your face bashed upEnough is enough thats why I keep that hammer tuckVest protecting the chest thats how I give it upStreets taught bout the rules to the game load the ***** and aimWhen its time to bang(chorus 2x)(Verse 3): Fetti CashI'm bout to move mountains the way I flip this flow I got the soulWhose the master sho-nuff I got the glow, that 40 and a cross bowDon't make me mash your potato, chrome on my shoulderFor you haters and you foes don't know, cop callers and jock knockersI'ma top popper head knocker boon docker, boom shakalakaThe bandit will rock and shock ya, rocka bye baby don't make meRun down on you clowns with the pound then shake you downI don't air sh*t out cause I'm not a air shooter, I'm about hitting and hospitalizingSo when I shoot you're most likely gonna get hit, or you're dying no lyingThis is homicide webside so don't get stabbed or shot or pushed off the roofOr cracked with the bat, don't get tossed in back of that black truckCause there's no coming back from that
