Letra de Clash

[Coro:]
Clash, all I do is clash
Keep that lane and take your milage man
I like my drugs 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 haters with a passion
I see it when we smashing

[Verse 1:]
Clashing, clashing, all my niggas clashing
Past around that thrax man
You know these niggas thraxin'
Niggas got killed you use to
I don’t know what happened
Playing games with Gucci
Man snitchin', turned into fashion
I just started of rapping
Never stop trapping
Custer Ave finest nigga
You can call me papi
You can call me daddy
Cause I use to serve ya mami
Gucci Mane your ganster
I got grams instead of 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

[Coro]

[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

[Coro]

[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

[Coro]