LUNASICC

LUNASICC - Can You Hang? lyrics

rate me

(feat. Ager Man of 3X Krazy & Killa Tay)

[Ager Man talking]

Sacramento loc, all the way to Fresno nigga

It's Ager Man, Lunasicc, an Killa Tay

Top dolla bitch. We get paid hoe

[Verse 1: Lunasicc]

Uh, prepare to bow down when I hit yo shit, danger

multipule rounds when the caliber spit

like my folks BO I mash on tracks to get the paper

money by the ton stack the loot as high as a skyscraper

I'm makin moves, doin you fools wit the tech

when it all goes down these AWOL niggaz get respect

yo threats don't mean shit everythangs on a bitch

twins on a BM-dub O, AMG chrome kit

I rush up in yo face, no doubt I bring the pain

unstoppable when I drop my load get smacked like a run away train

I do kick it wit real niggaz from Sac-Town, thought you knew

like my folks Yuk, I blast on fools so I

dish the body smash off wit my posse bangin the curb

young phsyco wit the ghetto bible I'm bringin the word

Sicc, Tay, an Ager Man out to do big thangs

top dollaz y'all, now mutha fucka can you hang??!!

[Chorus x2: Lunasicc]

Top dollaz, nigga can you hang wit my team??

we got the plug, on everythang that you need

money, cars, drugs, hoes, (each is repeated)

label me a drug deala fo skrill that's the way it goes

[Verse 2: Ager Man]

I got yo punk ass yellin.... AHHH!!

wit a phat ass strap in yo mouth, the gat in yo mouth

got you swallowin crack in yo mouth

pistol whippin to knock yo punk ass out

an go fo tha scratch in yo house

that's why I never keeps stacks in my house

back at that ass point blank range

none of you mutha fuckin bitches wanna cross this game

I hear you bumpin that Krazy shit

tired of the pain, I fuck wit assassins

killaz that'll blow out yo fuckin brains

Eastside til I die, I'm hittin on the gas

sumpthin fo that ass hoe, sumpthin fo that ass

heaters under the two seater Benzo wit tinted glass

9 millimeter on my lap, shit some puff I'm ready to blast

full of traps, hopin that my gun don't get smoked

if I go broke, he bring me back

I'm deep in this game of sellin dope

these niggaz out here be strapped

this nigga right here be strapped wit a mini

open fire on yo bitch ass, tough love that I'm sendin

test the testicals, serve the team an I'm grippin

the hoe from Oakland to Lick Mode

wit a four-four, searchin til the day I go all out fo the cash

an be out like nuthin, ever happened, I'm smashin

on the gas it's murder shit, this goes further than rappin

dealt wit the jackin, empty yo pockets time to pay yo turf taxes

after the blastin if you niggaz get to flashin

we puttin hot ones in yo asses

3 Times fo you mutha fuckin niggaz

doin it to you in yo ear, say what I can wit a can of beer

top dollaz, when the double O block

an the four-four stop, when a nigga pop, cowards

it's Ager Man, an Lunasicc surrounded by money an power

you know, you know, you know, it goes down, uh game

[chorus x2]

[Verse 3: Killa Tay]

Got the mic I'm gettin freaky like a demon Nina

millimeter my weapon when I'm steppin through yo section

strictly fo protection

wreckin, checkin, disrespectin niggaz bigga than me

stoppin yo family, plot yo death like Brandon Lee

million dolla Mobb hits, Mobb shit, bustaz all die

wipe the bitch made g's off the mack strap when I ride

high, power fuck a coward

top dollaz cuz I'm bout it

while you hatin I be celebratin, elevatin my mind

off that bomb green, no visine, eyes red like blood clots

get off in that ass like buckshots

pockets phat like Chubb Rock

shiney gold medalins no more freestylin

it's all about these pay styles

gotta get mine, now we ballin big time

still throwin them clips down from the Bay down to South Central

bout my riches, dodgin bitches like a base half rental

no reason fo squeezin the trigga

these niggaz is goners, insane fo the skrilla

I'm a killa, realer than real

bringin em pain, all off in the game, top dollaz, uh

[chorus x3]

Money (money)

cars (cars)

drugs (drugs)

hoes, hoes, hoes, hoes... nigga. [x2]

Top dollaz biatch!

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