Biggs Out – BabyTron & Bandgang Biggs (feat. GT, StanWill & the Godfather)

[G.T.:]
Ayy, yeah, come on (I just walked in too, nigga)
It’s G.T., nigga (This shit off the dome, nigga)
Ayy, nigga, what up? (Let’s get this shit in, nigga)
Ayy, nigga (Big songs, nigga, let’s go)
Ayy

I heard they let Biggs out
Call [?] bring the BINs out
Whip so fast, tap it and it spin out
I remember they was young as hell, nigga whip a ten out
True Religion [?] nigga, at yo bitch house
[?] white, nigga, let me get it in
Flowing [?] when I stop, they spin
Next week probably in Miami in a [?]
I ain’t even got no beef, all the opps dead
[?] come through all black but the guts red
Bro, I only call yo bitch when I want head
And if you ever think we sweet, you gon’ catch lead
Could’ve jumped in the ‘Cat but I took the Benz
Buffs cost four flat, that’s without the lens
Y’all niggas bunch of followers and we set the trend

[The Godfather:]
On the East I just caught a play, where the fuck is G.T.?
Spin yo block like a record or a CD
Coming back to back like that Drake song but I ain’t sign nothing
Chopstick flip the crib, tryna rewind something
Ice on, stomp yo head in, I catch you eyeing something
Chase you down on the freeway, we on the lodge busting
Ham called me tryna buy a pint, I sold him Robitussin
We got a problem? Ain’t no talking, it ain’t no discussion

[BabyTron:]
Dropped a diss song? I dropped a chain, I don’t battle rap
Account with the pin, this shit easy, catching Apple jacks
When I grab my punch off the site, I’m attacking Saks
Driving off the Wock’ wasn’t smart, I done crashed the Scat
We’ll send him to the moon, the chop came with NASA blast
Punching up a card, told my bitch keep the door close
You got that one whip, that bitch don’t even got no sports mode
He thought he caught me slipping, whole time I had the torch though
Another four pore, fuck around and get my snore on

[BandGang Biggs:]
We in this bitch busting down [?] keep the door closed
Hit a nigga block, hundred shots, it’s [?] for closure
We don’t know you, tryna come and shop then I’m getting over
Free smoke, inhaling everything, you know we keep them blowers
Wake up, drop a eight in this pop, I hate being sober
Quick to grab the chop or the Glock and get shit in motion
Them bows in, touching down to ’em, get ’em straight from Oakland
Them hoes in, just to fuck this bitch, gotta give up tokens

[StanWill:]
Ayy, if I step foot in Meijer’s then you know I’m giffy grabbing
Fuck around, throw the blick to Tron, I might have Jimmy wack ’em
I can’t take the gang to no occasion, they get blicky active
Born a GOAT, I might be Stan but, bitch, I’m Billy actually
Took the chop to Dr. Miami, it got some titties on it
Only ride with G’s in my unit, feel like I’m 50 on ’em
Pistol poking through the ‘Miri jeans, I got the blicky on me
Off-White with the camouflage, I got a ghillie on me

Huh, yeah
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