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a$ap ferg - let it bang lyrics
[skit]
now like i was saying
i used to go into muh’f-ckin’, um, bomber’s club on convent
with slacks and shoes on, with the tec-9 on
just – you know what i’m saying? just scoping out for a bit
yeah psych, you used to have the tec with the good pants?
you know, we was just hungry like that
too tired of shooting in the air cause i can’t get my way and sh-t
[intro: a$ap ferg]
grandma hid that hammer in her mattress from my uncle
he would listen to wu-tang ‘fore walkin’ in the jungle
army fatigue jacket, kitchen knife, hope he don’t cut you
with a deuce-deuce up in his boot in case he get in tussles
[chorus: a$ap ferg]
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
[verse 1: a$ap ferg]
lightpost workout, how he turned out
granddaddy tried to help him but he burnt out
he screamed, “lazy f-cker, won’t you try to get a job?”
block party where the hoochies turned out
they would dance and sweat they perm out
if they scream, “we got beef” he would handle with no prob
cologne and liquor was his odor, fragrance of a ridin’ soldier
odb was his persona, he was high on mars
40 ounce and then some marijuana
when grandma died from pneumonia
now his life a roller coaster, put that sh-t on god
[chorus: a$ap ferg]
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
(and he will!) let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
[verse 2: schoolboy q]
uhh, bruh, i miss my crackhead uncle
sold him dope in by the bundles
draw down on him, his own gun though
f-ck about family, where’s my hundo?
‘fore my clip go knock-knock zero
fake n-gg- talkin’ ’bout q ain’t real
18 slangin’ that coupe deville
young n-gg-, young n-gg- move that dope
young n-gg- might get k!lled
cuz ain’t payin’ my bills, heat make the beef get grilled
12 years clutchin’ that steel
pop a n-gg- more than them pills
pistol under sheet when i sleep
body n-gg-s like i do beats
i ain’t talkin’ bout my uncle, this me
made another million this week
swagger make a bentley look cheap
i’m the reason why your momma od’d
i’m the reason why your homies ain’t deep
now you wanna talk about peace
pimpin’ b-tches all in these streets
wonderin’ why you rubbin’ her feet
if you got high off what i sold
how his teeth platinum when he on sh-t row?
big belly ballin’ like i’m still gettin’ throwed
leave a n-gg- flat ’til his body get towed
sad that the curtain got closed
leave him with a hole in his skull
[outro: schoolboy q]
let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
let it bang, let it bang, let it bang
uh, yeah
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