Gangsters Truth

It’s a bit simple and rough but I finally got a thread to weave together, too much fun!
Verse 1
I’m a motherfucking gangster, the truth in the flesh,
I walk like I talk, every word leaves a mess.
Crew strapped tight, loyal to the bone,
Step wrong once, and you’re out on your own.
I don’t need no crown, I earned my respect,
Every shot that I call, keeps the game in check.
Don’t fold under pressure; know no fears,
It’s the grind that defines how we made it to here.
Refrain (Opening)
A motherfucking gangster with a hard-hitting crew,
We’re the fire in the shadows, the storm blowing through.
Built from the ashes, forged in these flames,
We don’t need no thrones—we’re rewriting the game.
Verse 2
Power ain’t the chain I wear or the cars I ride,
It’s the swagger in my crew when we roll side by side.
Money talks loud, but respect cuts deep,
You might buy a crowd, but the soul’s not cheap.
We keep the code tight; no snitches to divide,
When it’s war, we move silent, no need to confide.
Respect can’t be borrowed when there’s blood on the line,
You can borrow the shine, but the grind is mine.
Refrain (Mid-Song)
A motherfucking gangster, my word is my bond,
We’re the storm in the silence, the calm before dawn.
Raised from the ruins, carved from the pain,
You don’t wear a fucking crown if you’re rewriting the game.
Verse 3
I’ve walked through the valley I’ve been to the war,
Every scar that I earned opened up another door.
Respect ain’t borrowed when it’s written in blood,
We rose from the trenches, dragged up from the mud.
A crew of motherfuckers, we don’t shake or bend,
Every dollar that we got came from time well spent, we was crafting the game, while you were grasping for fame.
You’re basking in the shine, but real motherfuckers know you can’t fake the grind,
It’s the soul of my hustle that will outlast time
Refrain (Final)
A motherfucking gangster with a hard-hitting crew,
Legends will be written while the weak bleed through.
Ashes to empires, forged in the flames,
We’re not taking no throne—we calling the game.
Outro
I’m a motherfucking gangster, the pen is my sword,
My bars hit hard, my crowds form hoards.
Crew stays locked, the game stays tight,
Your life’s in hock;
suckers gonna end up outlined in chalk.
You’re gonna find out—we’re about this talk.
My words and bonds are true—what you gonna do?
Don’t holler like a bitch when we come for you.
This ain’t just a flex—it’s the lot that we drew.
You can’t be a G if the story ain’t true.
If you’re slipping, you ain’t fierce, we’re gonna pull your card. Your stories just a farce and we were born this hard.