LISTEN UP, PT. 2 - OFB

Cash

BeatsByLucas

OFB way, gun way, gang way

Get right or get left

Woi, woi

I’m tryna grab man, nap man and attack man (Nap him)

Carry my man on my shoulder like a boombox

Slap man in a black van

I guess I’m too tapped, don’t mad man (Don't mad man)

It gets all peak when I swing my black hand (Ching)

I’ve seen big men turn jello

Crash the rental and hold corn from this hand can (Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow)

SJ, I’m known as a bad man

ZT ain’t safe in the Nine after nine (No, he ain’t)

That’s why the Niners still hiding (Bow, bow)

My whole squads on riding, me, I’m on sliding

Long Samurai like a Viking (Ching, ching)

AB kept driving, me, I would’ve knifed him

Hear the opp boys just typin' (Stop typin')

You know gang-gangs ridin', need me a python

Or I’ll fist him up like Tyson

Yeah, I’m young it’s fun, man live it, man kill it

No sweets in the mash, man fill it (Man fill it)

You want smoke with the gang?

Come, bring it

Best drill it, don’t miss when you shoot, are you kidding?

(Bow, bow)

Don’t miss when you shoot, are you kidding?

In the back of this X3 ding-dong skidding (Skrr)

So bro’s angry, he got them bibbing (Bow, bow)

Devilish thoughts when I see them tripping

Listen Up

In the rain, .32 in my coat (In the dark)

I saw him freeze up when I back this smoke (Bow, bow)

Nowadays everyone’s beefing the O (How can they?)

But it’s calm, we still got smoke for domes (Bow, bow)

Aim up high, dump off or blow

Het poked, my fifteen garn' rip through clothes (Ching, ching)

Get touched, no hope, get rich, not broke

For the opps, this beef can’t hold (No way, no way)

And what’s this mans seen on UDN?

(What's this?)

Another Nine boy tryna send for the gang

Oh shit, he ain’t rid for his friend (Oh shit)

I said he don’t do that again (No way)

This west ting tryna line them up

I guess everything’s fucked if I rise it up (Bow, bow)

On the Nine block, made Star 9 buss

Get touched, no way can that boy try duss (Woi, woi)

This long nose can’t fit in my coat

Half it, half it 'till it fits in proper (Chop it, chop it)

This bruck back come big like a chopper (Big)

We burn our garms and hit Foot Locker (Burn them)

Rise it up, tryna spot me an opper

My bro could’ve made it playing soccer (Could've made it)

My head back still criss like Tucker

Circle the Nine tryna ching up a fucker (Listen up, listen up)

Ching him up, head straight to the blocka (Ching, ching)

Step on the gas, lay low from a chopper (Skrr, skrr)

Drive thru', I ain’t buying a Whopper

I’m doing this drill with bro, he a shotter

.38 lead, come taste this copper

Chest shot, head shot, do up a sucker (Mad)

This Rambo slides in like butter

The Nine where we go to juice this cutter (Woi, woi)

I’m tryna grab man, nap man and attack man (Nap him)

Carry my man on my shoulder like a boombox

Slap man in a black van

I guess I’m too tapped, don’t mad man (Don't mad man)

It gets all peak when I swing my black hand (Ching)

I’ve seen big men turn jello

Crash the rental and hold corn from this hand can (Bow, bow, bow, bow, bow)

SJ, I’m known as a bad man

ZT ain’t safe in the Nine after nine (No, he ain’t)

That’s why the Niners still hiding (Bow, bow)

My whole squads on riding, me, I’m on sliding

Long Samurai like a Viking (Ching, ching)

AB kept driving, me, I would’ve knifed him

Hear the opp boys just typin' (Stop typin')

You know gang-gangs ridin', need me a python

Or I’ll fist him up like Tyson