Clash

[Chorus:] Clash, all I do is clash Keep that lane and take your milage man I like my drapes to clash Clash, all I do is clash If you walking I’m gonna splash you And if I see you we gonna clash Clash, all I do is clash Mix the poochie with the gucci I don’t like my clothes to match Clash, all my shit be clashing I hate hurdles with a passion I see it when we smashing [Verse 1:] Clashing, clashing, all my niggas clashing Past around that trash man You know these niggas trashing Niggas got killed you use to I don’t know what happened Playing card with Gucci Matched that chain, turned into fashion I just thought of rapping Now we start trapping Close to as fine nigga You can call me papi You can call me daddy Cause I use to sew your manhood Gucci Mane your ganster I got groceries to the grammys Run through some valleys And my cutlass super reckless Hold that crystal had to worries And my niggas set the damange Talk my niggas on And the hood couldn’t even handle it These niggas I role with, will kill these niggas in your family [Chorus] [Verse 2:] I mix the pimping with the rapping bitch Twin from robbery, know I’d slap you Know I done this shit Call Gucci cause he only want to spot this shit (spot this shit) The only real nigga first From Alanta peak It’s Ogd, I bought this shit for real Ain’t never have a motherfucking gangster real This 20k I got them white for real Call these motherfuckers They like keep it real Ogd (Ogd), don’t follow me (don’t follow me) You know I pack that steal Then I pop a nigga for real Don’t violate me I ain’t calling nobody I’m on my own nigga Ask the streets about me O.G.D [Chorus] [Verse 3:] Put that money I be smashing Two hundred on the dash Pick that ass and smash Marley’s got me clash hands Designers mix match things Haters with a passion Send me to hoe The way these diamonds be flashing Go out selling it They mean a ten clashing Choppers get the blast Pussy jump side like a rabbit Yea my bitch is classic Exoctic but she nasty Money over bitches So the money I got to have it You think I’m gonna die The way these diamonds got these carrots The haters talk behind my back I think they need a parrot You think I’m in my zone The way you nigga be trapping I’ll haunt you with these bullets When they gone to get the clappers [Chorus]