Artist: Crooked I Album: Apex Predator Song: No Sleep Gang Typed by: Nickolye16@aol.com [Crooked I] No sleep gang, insomnia gang We out here traffickin, that mean I'ma find me a lane You wanna be celebrities, you remind me of lames But I got bars, when I'm through sellin these, I'ma buy me some fame All-all a-bout that moola, holla I'm a Rottweiler with an iced-out collar Prada, frames, Long Beach top shotta I don't count on niggaz but I might count dollars I don't count on hoes but I might count dollars I don't count on haters but I might count.. Bottles in the V.I.P., when the club turn the lights out I'm on the white couch yellin out Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang O.G. mayne, how the dope fiends came Get 'em so hooked call it dope T-Pain Cardo on the beat, then it's no keychain Push to start, then I crook to park Seats vibrate when the dope beat bang Drank the sip, nigga kush to spark, uh [Chorus: Crooked I] Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang nigga no sleep gang Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga Fuck sleep, g-g-get that money my nigga Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga Fuck sleep, g-g-get that money my nigga Fuck sleep, get that money my nigga Smoke in the club, roll that up Drank in the club, po' that up Haters in the club, so damn what? If it don't make money then it don't add up No sleep gang, throw that up No sleep gang, throw that up No sleep gang, throw that up If it don't make money then it don't add up (turn up!) House in the hills, thousands and mil's Gettin wild in the field with your spouse in Brazil On ounces and pills, how does it feel to count dollar bills, to count dollar bills House in the hills, thousands and mil's Gettin wild in the field with your spouse in Brazil On ounces and pills, how does it feel to count dollar bills, to count dollar bills [Crooked I] No-no sleep gang, in-insomnia gang Raised by some +O-Dogs+, that's why I polly with +Caine+ They pushed +Roc+ in the 90's, they remind me of Dame Hundred on the +Dash+, Jordan's on the gas Pull the top back while I'm slidin through the lanes Yellin bang bang bang, no sleep gang Bang bang bang, no sleep gang Do-si-do with a hoe he claim In the low-key mode 'bout to throw me brain And I know she know, chain and the cross C.O.B., I'm the COB gang boss Bitch threw molly in her own champagne This time around y'all can't blame Ross Momma, told me, I couldn't behave To that, dollar, was Crooked a slave Now I'm, a master, fly right past ya Louis Vuitton sneakers one foot in the grave But before I die let me tell you this I'ma ball on you niggaz, I can tell you're pissed Talk about I kept your wife out all night N-n-n-nigga don't tell me, homie tell your bitch She rep [Chorus] [Outro: Crooked I] Bang bang bang, no sleep gang (gang, gang) Bang bang bang, no sleep gang (gang, gang) Bang bang bang, no sleep gang (gang, gang) Bang, bang, b-bang, b-bang, b-bang, no sleep gang