Delving into the gritty reality of street life, 22Gz offers a raw and unfiltered glimpse into his world through vivid storytelling. The lyrics revolve around themes of violence, loyalty, and survival within gang culture. He emphasizes the necessity of being armed ("keep one up in the head") and the consequences of betrayal or disrespect ("Rest in piss to that boy who got hit with a hollow"). The song also highlights material success as a symbol of status ("rockin' Amiris"), while juxtaposing it with the ever-present dangers he faces. References to notable figures like Tony Montana and Manu Ginobili underscore his self-perception as both a feared enforcer and a skilled tactician. Ultimately, 22Gz's freestyle is an unapologetic portrayal of life on the streets, where power dynamics are constantly at play and survival hinges on quick reflexes and unwavering loyalty.
Blixky Gang Freestyle
Lyrics
(Ghosty)
Grrt
Told my shoota don't hit no legs
Blicky, the blicky, the blicky, the blicky, the blicky
Y'all know I keep one up in the head (fuck)
Do a hit then we fled
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt
Blicky, the blicky, the blicky, the blicky
Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang
Move bitch (move bitch)
I'm disturbin' the peace, got me feelin' like Luda (skoot, skoot)
New drip, (drip, drip)
I'm rockin' Amiris, this shit ain't no Buddha
Get hit in the stomach (pussy)
All of his guts and intestines he threw up (hahaha)
Got rid of the gun (got rid of that shit)
I had to re-up on a new one
Henny, no Georgies, spin through the flossy
I'm at the Barclays, and I got floor-seats
Treesha's bye-bye, tryna give orgies
Back out, I ain't tryna end up on Maury (brrt)
Too dripped out (too dripped out, blicky, the blicky)
Black Range when the gang flip out (gang, gang, gang)
Clips stick out (clips stick out), reload once the shit slip out
Spin 'til we nauseous, bendin' it often
Cup over coasters, we made 'em forfeit
Pull up no warnings, hop out and scorch 'em (hop out and scorch 'em)
Better be cautious, baited 'em up
Walked 'em straight to a coffin (walked 'em straight to his death)
They ain't takin' no shots (pussy)
They ain't scorin' (bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)
22 the nigga they rap 'bout (suck my dick)
They ain't the same when the strap out (gang, gang, gang)
If you ain't know you should check on my background (pussy, skrrt, skrrt)
If he ain't dead then spin back 'round
Met a little treesha and she tryna get slapped out
Ended up blowin' her back out
Fuck on the balcony, I made her tap out (my bad, my bad) (brrt, brrt)
Gang, gang, gang (skrrt, skrrt)
When we spin, duck (pussy)
Keep that blick tucked
If he trip up (what?), he won't get up
Rest in piss to that boy who got hit with a hollow
Now he in Gelato (now he in Gelato) (gang, gang)
It's still free the twirlers
I'm screamin' free Kodak, I'm screamin' free Ralo (twirl, twirl)
Feel like Tony Montano
I shoot you get left, euro steppin' like Manu (euro steppin' like Manu)
With a treesha in Milano, she drivin' the boat
She downin' Moscato
Clappin' like standin' ovation (pussy)
Brodie gon' chase him, I don't do chasin'
Count hella guap, got paper (racks, racks)
Shit it get dangerous, we don't feel danger
Shooters gon' flock out the Wrangler (bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap, bap)
Grrt
Suck my dick
Gang, gang, gang
Writer(s): Brad Moss, Jeffrey Alexander, Kevohn John
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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