a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

b.o.b - i ont really lyrics

[intro]
(ke on the track)
(scotty atl: bob what up man?)
(b.o.b: what’s up fool?)
(scotty atl: thse n-ggas out here hustlin’ for a [?])
(scotty atl: you know i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas right?
(b.o.b: f-ck ’em)
(b.o.b: talk’ to em) (x3)
(scotty atl: real n-gga ain’t never for the hustle for the [?])
(scotty atl: real n-gga atl)

[verse 1: scotty atl]
two three times had to fall on my face
and you supposed to be a n-gga i can trust
you ain’t never pulled at a real n-gga fall i recall
you just schemin’ on the n-ggas in your own in the circle you were
lying on the internet, putting n-gga lame
talking real sh-t n-ggas ain’t real
you just trying to [?] n-gga i can feel
told ’em i ain’t f-cking with these n-ggas i’mma focus on my own sh-t
cool club for life, had the [?] on
kanye, getting f-cked by all that
finna turn like car keys (turn up), with a
bad b-tch, and a cup full of cognac
[?] this a carjack, i be
ridin’ like a motherf-cking [?] valet
with the swiss full of [?], yeah i
need that, these n-ggas on my last nerve
who you trying to impress, you be trickin’ [?]
yeah n-ggas ain’t ball like
we can can see it on your ig, you be
tryin’ too hard you don’t even live your own life
getting line like a [?], take over time
give me head like mj
post a clip on oj
r.i.p my n-gga oj, they ain’t know

[hook]
man i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas
man i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas
i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas i don’t
f-ck with these n-ggas, man i don’t really
f-ck with these n-ggas
man i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas
i don’t really f-ck with these n-ggas i don’t
f-ck with these nig-ss, man i don’t really
f-ck with these n-ggas

[verse 2: scotty atl]
show a n-gga love he get sh-tted on (sh-tted on)
man hollywood, now i ball like f-ck ’em
me and cut the tees out the top of the colored [?]
see me they can see me hold a mothef-cking [?]
xxl even complex, no radio
on tour getting good dough
meeting tightwads, i don’t know about the pudding but
they don’t know about hood though
give a foot long, i’m just tryin’ to get the long bread
get some -ss out my [?]
in the [?], chasing paper like a maniac
man we struggle way too long
want a lambo, just to ride wanna feel like
ace [?] on a good park
and the good lord, help me blow up help me getting rich
help me make it real real far
know just one thing, n-ggas act like they wanna see
they just wanna see take outs
never for them, so i grind i ain’t letting off
i ain’t taking no days off
we were cool with them, but they were hating i can feel it
they were hating i can feel it
i’mma make ’em look bad, jealous heart at that boy
watch a real n-gga k!ll it

[hook]

[verse 3: b.o.b]
man i feel like f-ck these n-ggas
i ain’t really feeling near one of these n-ggas
i’m worldwide boy you just a one street n-gga
mlb ballin’ barry bond league hitters
i ain’t got i ain’t got no handout for these n-ggas
but lyrically i’mma make examples out of n-ggas
they gon’ f-ck around and put atlanta out a n-gga
you ain’t got to tell i whip the lambo out on n-ggas
yeah catch heat make a camel out of n-ggas
they gon’ swear they got the rambo out the ghetto
what the f-ck you fantasize a n-gga
it ain’t real beef unless they pullin’ ammo out of n-ggas
how can n-ggas even think they on my level (on my level)
when they’re too many n-ggas thinking on my level (all over)
take a minute n-gga think of something clever
if it’s numbers to this sh-t i”m going meta
i won’t say i’m a vet, just somewhere between the best
and ahead of the rest, next level finesse
heavy metal possessed
bullsh-t to my right, pool pit to my left
that ain’t neither here nor there, nevertheless
just tell your friend bring a lighter and song
both my eyes low like cheech and chong
bobby ray bands in your camera phone
if i ain’t on your tv boy you got the channel wrong

[hook]

[outro: scotty atl]
yeah what it do man it’s your boy scotty atl man checkin’ in one time, you know what i’m sayin’? man shout out to n-ggas out there geting the motherf-ckin’ money man you know? y’all n-ggas say no jan-re, we say no genre, you feel me? where we from that a-town and you know what i’m talkin’ ’bout so we just talk like that. no genre n-gga not no jan-re. get that sh-t right, fool. scotty atl cool club, what’s happening? turn up in this b-tch man, leggo

- b o b lyrics

Random Lyrics

HOT LYRICS