Can You Hang?

*(Ager Man talking)* Sacramento loc, all the way to Fresno nigga It's Ager Man, Lunasicc, an Killa Tay Top dolla bitch. We get paid ho Verse 1 *(Lunasicc)* Uh, prepare to bow down when I hit yo shit, danger Multipule rounds when the caliber spit Like my folks BO I mash on tracks to get the paper Money by the ton stack the loot as high as a skyscraper I'm makin moves, doin you fools wit the tech When it all goes down these AWOL niggas get respect Yo threats don't mean shit everythangs on a bitch Twins on a BM-dub O, AMG chrome kit I rush up in yo face, no doubt I bring the pain Unstoppable when I drop my load get smacked like a run away train I do kick it wit real niggas from Sac-Town, thought you knew Like my folks Yuk, I blast on fools so I Dish the body smash off wit my posse bangin the curb Young phsyco wit the ghetto bible I'm bringin the word Sicc, Tay, an Ager Man out to do big thangs Top dollaz y'all, now mutha fucka can you hang??!! Chorus *(Lunasicc)* x2 Top dollaz, nigga can you hang wit my team?? We got the plug, on everythang that you need Money, cars, drugs, hoes, (each is repeated) Label me a drug deala fo skrill that's the way it goes Verse 2 *(Ager Man)* I got yo punk ass yellin.... AHHH!! Wit a phat ass strap in yo mouth, the gat in yo mouth Got you swallowin crack in yo mouth Pistol whippin to knock yo punk ass out An go fo tha scratch in yo house That's why I never keeps stacks in my house Back at that ass point blank range None of you mutha fuckin bitches wanna cross this game I hear you bumpin that Krazy shit Tired of the pain, I fuck wit assassins Killaz that'll blow out yo fuckin brains Eastside til I die, I'm hittin on the gas Sumpthin fo that ass ho, sumpthin fo that ass Heaters under the two seater Benzo wit tinted glass 9 millimeter on my lap, shit some puff I'm ready to blast Full of traps, hopin that my gun don't get smoked If I go broke, he bring me back I'm deep in this game of sellin dope These niggas out here be strapped This nigga right here be strapped wit a mini Open fire on yo bitch ass, tough love that I'm sendin Test the testicals, serve the team an I'm grippin The ho from Oakland to Lick Mode Wit a four-four, searchin til the day I go all out fo the cash An be out like nuthin, ever happened, I'm smashin On the gas it's murder shit, this goes further than rappin Dealt wit the jackin, empty yo pockets time to pay yo turf taxes After the blastin if you niggas get to flashin We puttin hot ones in yo asses 3 Times fo you mutha fuckin niggas Doin it to you in yo ear, say what I can wit a can of beer Top dollaz, when the double O block An the four-four stop, when a nigga pop, cowards It's Ager Man, an Lunasicc surrounded by money an power You know, you know, you know, it goes down, uh game *(chorus)* x2 Verse 3 *(Killa Tay)* Got the mic I'm gettin freaky like a demon Nina Millimeter my weapon when I'm steppin through yo section Strictly fo protection Wreckin, checkin, disrespectin niggas bigga than me Stoppin yo family, plot yo death like Brandon Lee Million dolla Mobb hits, Mobb shit, bustaz all die Wipe the bitch made g's off the mack strap when I ride High, power fuck a coward Top dollaz cuz I'm bout it While you hatin I be celebratin, elevatin my mind Off that bomb green, no visine, eyes red like blood clots Get off in that ass like buckshots Pockets phat like Chubb Rock Shiney gold medalins no more freestylin It's all about these pay styles Gotta get mine, now we ballin big time Still throwin them clips down from the Bay down to South Central Bout my riches, dodgin bitches like a base half rental No reason fo squeezin the trigga These niggas is goners, insane fo the skrilla I'm a killa, realer than real Bringin em pain, all off in the game, top dollaz, uh *(chorus)* x3 Money (money) Cars (cars) Drugs (drugs) Hoes, hoes, hoes, hoes... nigga. x2 Top dollaz biatch!