Gang

[Verse 1]
Oi, you, fuck you
I don't wanna be in your gang
'Cause I got my own gang and my gang fucking bangs
We are not like you, discarded God's creations
And we do not sell drugs, but we fucking love to take 'em
Call us outspoken, better not seen and never heard
Grazing 'round your park bench on some rare collision of herbs
Draped in Burbs, a leather purse to match the shoes
There ain't no birds in my DMs, just the socks they're Burberry to

[Verse 2]
Oi, you, fuck you
I don't wanna be in your clique
'Cause I got my own clique and my clique's fucking sick
You are not welcomе, wondering guests aren't sеrved
Artois's our worship, best behold our tavern church
Whiskey bottles, tats, and powdered noses
Beauty's skin-deep till you bleed a thousand roses
You should not fear us for love's all we promote
Our lo-fi filters and our self-indulgent posts