Testi Out Gang - Sauce Walka, BG Kenny Lou

Out Gang

JRag on the beat\nOoh-wee\nScoot up in here like a bumble car\nI’m drippin' sauce like it’s no tomorrow\nI whip that gas in my Audemar\nI’m pullin' strings like a damn guitar\nI’m with pterodactyls in Jurassic Park\nI’m cookin' grits if they askin' for it\nI’ll send a bitch in a plastic bra\nAll of my niggas got aim\nAll of my choppers got names\nYou niggas outside the gang\nNigga get out of line, he flamed\nHe get caught out of bounds, he hanged\nCatch him out and I doubt his brains\nRight outside of your house, we came\nAll you did was hide out, you lame, Out Gang\nSplash up on the outs with a K\nSend an out nigga outer space\nIf I find out he was tryna play\nRidin' out with a baby spray\nGot the hitter tied to a shoelace\nYour bitch wanna see what my jewels taste\nI’m too busy changin' that cruise taste\nYeah I pour a pint every day\nI be drinkin' eights like Smart Water\nNiggas say lean 'posed to make you go to sleep\nBut it make me drip harder\nI just fucked on a weird bitch in LA that act with Will Smith’s daughter\nI could make Selena Gomez break Justin Bieber like a pimp taught her\nWhile you was savin' for your first chain, nigga, I was probably on my fifth\norder\nYou old niggas still think y’all could play out the game, y’all ain’t Vince\nCarter\nYour defense ain’t nothin' to me\nI step back and Harden for three\nJust like Harden I’m saucin' your P\nIn the streets, on me (Ooh-wee, drip)\nScoot up in here like a bumble car\nI’m drippin' sauce like it’s no tomorrow\nI whip that gas in my Audemar\nI’m pullin' strings like a damn guitar\nI’m with pterodactyls in Jurassic Park\nI’m cookin' grits if they askin' for it\nI’ll send a bitch in a plastic bra\nAll of my niggas got aim\nAll of my choppers got names\nYou niggas outside the gang\nNigga get out of line, he flamed\nHe get caught out of bounds, he hanged\nCatch him out and I doubt his brains\nRight outside of your house, we came\nAll you did was hide out, you lame, Out Gang\nScoot up and pop like a pimple\nAll these cookies, smoke clouding my mental\nSomeone’s toolie just tucked in the rental\nWe gon' scoot up and blow like a missile\nThey can’t common sense you, I know that I hit you\nBet a hundred that Spray-co gon' lift you\nIt blow like a whistle, them people gon' miss you\nSend a nigga ass home, okay\nUp, up, and away, like an early dismissal\nMight Judge Judy VLONE today\nSo my drip is up, gotta keep me a pistol\nLike a pimp, keep my ho on my hip\nCuffin' that bitch like a new pair of scissors\nWe don’t sleep when it’s war over here\nTryna creep and then reap the lil' son of a nigga\nI’m glad I went chose me a roll over niggas\nAnd I’m on the road but I’m not on no jigga\nStay to myself, not a role model figure\n'Cause I love to ride, love to jugg and tote pistols\nFuck the other side, we gotta slide on them niggas\nI’m the one scootin' up in the streets\nI’m the cook if they callin' it beef\nFuck the smoke, bitch, we want all the grease\nThey deceased, I’m winning, yeah yeah, yeah yeah\nScoot up in here like a bumble car\nI’m drippin' sauce like it’s no tomorrow\nI whip that gas in my Audemar\nI’m pullin' strings like a damn guitar\nI’m with pterodactyls in Jurassic Park\nI’m cookin' grits if they askin' for it\nI’ll send a bitch in a plastic bra\nAll of my niggas got aim\nAll of my choppers got names\nYou niggas outside the gang\nNigga get out of line, he flamed\nHe get caught out of bounds, he hanged\nCatch him out and I doubt his brains\nRight outside of your house, we came\nAll you did was hide out, you lame, Out Gang