freddie gibbs & madlib - bomb - alex goose remix lyrics
[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah
[verse 1: freddie gibbs]
slammin’, drugs got me wakin’ up in cold sweats
sometimes i’m slightly off my rocker, but i’m on deck
got 2 and a baby off my b+tches student loan check
she hit my line to get that girl, i call it phone s+x
robbing like my problems ain’t gon catch up to me later
b+tch i’m mobbing like og bobby johnson, split your potato
at the table cooking, shaving and touching base with them basers
bet they try to make a play for the yay as soon as they taste it
the evasive black american gangster, sinister corner hugger
’cause seeing this n+gga shine been annoying me like a m+th+f+cka
this busta owe me, now he act like he don’t know me
forty fo’ my closest homie, k!ll c+ckaroaches like tony
got montana money, newport 100 dipped in fluid
yo i had to smoke it, pupils dilated like silver dollars
now we loc’ing, call it devilish how i do b+tch
f+ck these n+ggas talking, i leave they thoughts on my shoestrings
[interlude: freddie gibbs]
what? uh, yeah
for sure
yeah
[verse 2: freddie gibbs]
rolling, pockets all swollen
set the record straight, that fnh is what i’m holding
a busta that we know got 15 ‘bows, bust it open
we came bandana’d up, divide it up, now what’s the quotient?
a split with 4 n+ggas, since i’m a go getter
i think these suckers p+ssy, i’ma merk the whole litter
told my girl to leave as soon as i hung up the phone with her
man, i heard you rob the robbers, look freddie a cold n+gga
got an icemaker for a heart, made n+gga from the start
life is like a movie, all i did was play my f+ckin’ part
cheffing up the crack, the heroin, and weed a la carte
i call it fast freddie’s, i should own a f+ckin’ restaurant
’cause back when i was 12, threw some bales on a scale and i got a pager
we broke them down and started selling nickels to the neighbors
eventually the penitentiary gon’ see me later
kiss my momma, told her if i die, then it was part of nature
what?
[verse 3: raekwon]
28 days later we all getting fresh
got the heart to die for something, flesh to flesh
the lambo, got her outside, it’s a stretch
my b+tch half mexican/afghan, i’m blessed
from living tough times with rough lemons
a gorgeous watch, my team on a dreadful level, yo
yeah, we still getting money right
long as the sun come out, i’ll hold these twenties tight
getting fresh, just cooling, my b+tch on my d+ck
ba+boom yo, you live with your moms, just get a grip
clip in my pocket, a rocket
i think of the dips, i need juelz and jims, with rough l!cks
trips to africa, shorty tear saks up
i’m out in bombay, rebels here actin’ up
we real, all g, 75+hundred of us
up in the sprinter bus, fussin’, “we need more heat”
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