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Robb Bank$

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(álbum: CONN3CT3D - 2019)


[Robb Bank$:]
Hey Cris, fuck you!
Femto!
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Okay

I don't like you (Woo-ooh), you don't like me (Woo-ooh)
You won't fight me (Woo-ooh) in my white tee (Woo-ooh)
She say, "Pipe me", (Woo-ooh) he so icy (Woo-ooh)
Fuck my sidepiece (Woo-ooh) in my Nike (Woo-ooh)

Mountain Dew never look clear
Put a six in here, got my red bitch riding on a Lear
She one in a million like Aaliyah
With' a blue lace wig, like the bitch bang Crip out here (Yeah)
And I got a gun, blazer fit, tailor
Fifteen thousand, and I spent it all on a spaceship (B-r-r-r)
And I got yo' lil' white baby, riding a Mercedes
And I told that hoe other shit (Rah)
What's yo' flavor? (What it is?) Flavor, savor (Uh)
Homegirl Blasian (Uh), initiation (Uh, uh)
Let you ride it like a Harley Davidson (I do)
Young Basquiat, paint her face with som'
You took that bitch at home, now you laying up
Gary Oak when I'm jumping at a gym
Made a movie, made a film
Yeah, I glowed up, but this is not a drill
I press a nigga like a bad pill
King of ad-lib, really lived
I'm that story that you tell
Like stop, drop and roll
Got a Glock with' a pole
Have you ever seen a stripper shake and get up out them clothes?
Got a swiss cheese TEC, find a rat, Whac-A-Mole
And I'm running out of breath, need to smoking poles, like

I don't like you (Woo-ooh), you don't like me (Woo-ooh)
You won't fight me (Woo-ooh) in my white tee (Woo-ooh)
She say, "Pipe me", (Woo-ooh) he so icy (Woo-ooh)
Fuck my sidepiece (Woo-ooh) in my Nike (Woo-ooh)

[wifisfuneral:]
Pure black in my face, bitch, I'm not sane
Smoking on pure gas, bitch, octane
A little devil from the mud with' a rotten age
Rolling up, rotten scene now outplayed
I was trapping out-back
Lil' Zay with' a sack
Got him gripping on his teeth, pure steel, that's a Gat
If we really talking facts
I'm the best, that's that
Never played no chess
Only playing with' address, I'm the Boogeyman
Creeping through yo' bitch bed sheets and you knew her, man
Blind hit a bitch sucking dick, going Super Saiyan
Skimming through the bands, Goddamn
How you do it, damn?
Ruger boy, rolling through the hood, I'm the Rugerman
Claim you gangsta, uh, you's a wanksta
Nah, paper chaser, uh, you can't be slime
You's a prankster, nah, paper chaser, uh
You can't be slime, uh, you's a prankster, like

[Robb Bank$:]
I don't like you (Woo-ooh), you don't like me (Woo-ooh)
You won't fight me (Woo-ooh) in my white tee (Woo-ooh)

hecho

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