Gangsta Shit's Like A Drug Lyrics

F/ tray deee, squeak-ru (of allfrumtha I)

[tray deee]
Yeah again, another group collaboration

Verse one: tray deee

From the second I get dressed to get to steepin I'm on one
Fillin up the 4-4 if pop-po want some
I ain't runnin from a motherf**ker
Dust a sucker off if he soft then f**k him if he suffer
Another one bites the dust like the song say
Bust em in the wrong way, caught up in the gunplay
One day, some say, we all gon' die
Human lives to my eyes, take a size and bye
You're on your own, give em all and go explode
It's a cold that aroze when you chose your clothes
Blue or red, who will care if we all was rich?
Ballin tills, haulin chickens, flossin grips
I give a damn bout the next fool, my tek rule
Ol' school nigga bout to take it to the next school
This gangsta shit is like drugs, runnin with thugs
Puttin slugs in your motherf**kin mug

Chorus: squeak-ru, (tray deee)

This gangsta shit is like a drug, (I got to ride)
And live for the hood to show my love
This gangsta shit is like a motherf**kin gangsta drug
Crips and bloods, ooooh

Verse two: squeak-ru

I got to bang on my enemy
I got make sure they know, they ain't afraid of me
So I'm gon' ride on they hood
Leavin nuttin but obituaries til they get it understood
You know that squeak-ru capped em
I wantcha homegirl photo book to be full of em
I'll be the gossip for ya block
When y'all explain to each other how I creep with the glock
The 4-5 nigga did the damage
I took two to da dome, so, nigga, f**k a bandage
And all you got was a bodybag
Accomadations to the morgue, equipped with a toe tag
Now you know I'm a killer
You cross my name out on the ward, it lets me know y'all remember
Mashed on your hood and got a trophy
If you really want revenge, nigga, come get me


Verse three: mack 10

This gangsta shit is a must, and plus I bust
And puff angel dust for the headrush
I like the way the teks spit when I'm lit
I feel like 'f**k the police' and 'a bitch ain't shit'
Plus I represent my curb to the fullest
And them, so-called hogs be like track stars when I pull this
Beat out, get the sheet out when I roam
Cos the first fool caught slippin on my block gettin done
So f**k a job, dogg, I jacks for my figures
Plus I live by the trigger and I ride for my niggas
On all-gold twisters on a front and back caddy
Every broad in they ghetto wish I was their baby daddy
So which lucky ho wanna be miss mack 1-0
You gotta have a gang of ass and be a dick-suckin pro
I wanna down bitch for my bride and when we ride
Gotta love this gangsta shit and be down for the homicide


This gangsta shit is like a drug, (I got to ride)
And live for the hood to show my love
This gangsta shit is like a motherf**kin gangsta drug
Crips and bloods, ooooh
*repeat x3*

[mack 10] rest in peace to all the soldiers
We lost to this gangsta shit

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Songwriter(s): Clinton F. Sands, Clint Sands, M. Moore, Dedrick D'Mon Rolison, Tracey la Marr Davis
Publisher(s): Squeak Ru Muzik, Universal Music - Z Tunes LLC, Media Creature Music, Real An Ruff Muzic, Try Trays Music, Blacks N Progress, WB Music Corp.

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