Every Year - 67, LD, Dimzy

You said that it’s ammi

That’s not ammi

That pack there come hard ash

.44's mad

.44 spins

That shit sounds like a car crash

On the main road with 20 my woes

Had a big 12 gauge in my rucksack

My young niggas drill, like Itch and Sizz

10 toes on the drive with a buckback

(LD)

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year

You said that its ammi

That’s not ammi

That pack there come hard ash

.44's mad

.44 spins

That shit sounds like a car crash

Jump Out Gang

We pulled up like, «where's all the opps?

Where they fryin' at?»

Corn got slapped

Niggas try and run

Now there’s feds on the ends tryna dug man

I’m tryna do music

I’m tryna do bootings

I’m tryna break down these two packs

From kway back

Man had poles pushed back to the Brix

Man, boot that

Now we pull up in trucks

3-litre dingers with spinners

Now we pull up with pumps

Don got left on the mains

Like don got hit by a bus

In skengs, we trust

So I trust these things and stuff

Fuck a driveby, mans never pullin' up

Jump out like, «yo what’s up?»

(Whats good?)

Then I go smoke a 3.5 to the lung

Smoke in my lungs and smoke in my gun

(Dimzy)

You said that it’s ammi

That’s not ammi

That pack there come hard ash

.44's mad

.44 spins

That shit sounds like a car crash

On the main road with 20 my woes

Had a big 12 gauge in my rucksack

My young niggas drill, like Itch and Sizz

10 toes on the drive with a buckback

(LD)

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year

Civilians or not, man’s coming

See bare man running

Live corn in my gun

Filled to the brim

Peel live drumming

All these oppers that’s fucking with gang

Only fucking with gang ‘cause we real

Fly birds and we make them bands

And they know that my Sixties drill

Drill 'em 'til a nigga stay still

I don’t rap ‘cause I’m tryna get a deal

FaceTime when I saw that opp

And pedalled my bike right back to the Hill

Can’t swerve 'round here, man’ll burst him

T.O.

got the phone lines twerking

Cool grub get the young boys working

If you feel he’s a fed, don’t serve him

Feds lurk for the gang, it’s all mad

I switch up things, I ain’t tryna get grabbed

Just re’d up, now to mow this trap

Two birds up, put my faith in this cap

Nearly every week, man load up straps

See us pulling up in any man’s flat (Skrrr!)

Three man down, one .44 bang

(Dimzy)

You said that it’s ammi

That’s not ammi

That pack there come hard ash

.44's mad

.44 spins

That shit sounds like a car crash

On the main road with 20 my woes

Had a big 12 gauge in my rucksack

My young niggas drill, like Itch and Sizz

10 toes on the drive with a buckback

(LD)

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year

And we’re pulling up anywhere

Letting off corn from everywhere

You ain’t gang, then you can’t make a penny here

New racks, new guns, that’s every year