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Bob And Weave
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BFB Da Packman
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Okay, let's, let's go I just wanna speak like some, some real life facts, you feel me? Some sh*t I've just been dealin' with So let's go, look (Blaccmass) (BNYX) Out here you gotta bob and weave I knew U was poppin' when the opp said he proud of me My girl f**ked another n***a while we was in love That's why I don't believe a b*t*h when she say she down for me Out here you gotta stick and move Even as a baby, I was makin' plays in the womb I sent a women's basketball playеr hella nudes I don't give a f**k if it was spirit, b*t*h, I got flu (Yеllow) It's your dream collab, BFB and Zack Fox I'm fat funny built, so don't ask me why my crack out (Yellow) She want ocean prime, but I took the b*t*h the black route My uncle mistreated me, that n***a smokin' crack now When it come to STD's, woo, I'm the mascot (Yellow) I'm off four honey packs, d**k harder than a math problem February, 'bout to act out For twenty-eight days have white women suck my black c*ck (The Lunch Crew Company) Man, your pockets brittle sneaky link, me and Karen Civil (Yellow) Don't wear condoms, truth be told I can't even fit them If Lizzo sold her coochie juice, ah, I wanna buy a swiggle I need a helping hand My brother stole my laptop, he back to smokin' meth again I got a young b*t*h, she's Soo Yung and I'm Jackie Chan She gotta bubble bath me 'fore we f**k, b*t*h, I'm Method Man I'm the man around town, do your research I'll f**k this money up 'til my meat hurt My ten toes so down they underneath Earth My neck's so cold, my nipples pokin' out my t-shirt (Woo) Don't let me in your house, I'll be done stole somethin' These weed I'm smokin' hella quiet like I done rolled nothin' I tried to cook crack once with my slow cousin Burned my auntie kitchen down 'cause we left the stove runnin' (Yeah, we f**ked up) I'll light a n***a up like a hookah torch Gotta a gay shooter with a ruger in his booty shorts I be hangin' with my opp's son makin' pillow forts His baby mama let me re-up with the child support n***as talkin' gun sh*t, but ain't did no slidin' I just f**ked an old b*t*h rheumatoid arthritis I don't f**k with no loud, n***a, this OG silenced I can dress my goddamn self, I don't need no stylist (Get the f**k off me) I ain't fresh? What the hell you mean? n***a, I could probably f**k Rihanna in this [?] Pockets fuller than blues, b*t*h, I'm BB king .40 in my shorts cuddled up with my ding-a-ling n***a tried to make a move, throw them bowels on 'em Got a glitch on my wrist, b*t*h, it froze on 'em I treat my guns like my sons, I put clothes on 'em b*t*h, if it's up, it's stay up like it's no bottom I put my team on my back, like an old possum n***as wanna fight, it ain't no problem Hold your nuts like you might wipe his nose off You do 'em like Joe Jackson, beat the right notes out him (Blaccmass) (BNYX)
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