mastamiind - robby nino lyrics
[hook]
like yeah [x5]
cry different tiers, i meet here
none of all you n-ggas, compare [x2]
[verse]
components, my clones are my ache
zone, zone, i’m in zone, like kanye, ooh
i flush out ya wave like a kamehameha, i body
any n-gga that want to get in it, and when i make
it apparent, like brandie, santiago, live up won the lotto
jaguar fur, on my body, just me and my shawty
i’m the bomb like kamikaze
b-tch you should know this is robby
she suck my d-ck, in the lobby
this is when a n-gga want to run the milage
there’s a thing called actual rap, and sh-t
called “tang”, i’m hotter mild, so the hotter i spit
i don’t need -ssists, i just know i came up with my gang
this is the dang slang, these pop rap n-ggas cannot sing
i’m on lanes, like when tory bit, my n-ggas vi flow
on a song, that sh-t insane, like i am ready to go b-tch!
these n-ggas food, i don’t taste em
even if my eyes squinted, i can see sl!ck
or my eyes closed, like it’s vacant, all these rappers
talking bout they water, got a n-gga feeling sea sick
i beat the beat up, that the b-ss got scared
and it sound like treble was decreasing
i sample the amp of sh-t, i’m cancerous
in rap, i’m the motherf-cking catalyst
what other rapper will ever channel this
and i have at&t, like i grabbed the sh-t
i grabbed ya neck, in a amount of seconds
i grip the chain, you have a big stand, d-mn
i push ya sh-t all the way back
like the calender changed, headlines say
you increase with new bullsh-t, like forehead lines
like one pick up will end you, land lined
it’s a can of bars, that you claim fire, but it ain’t my guy
ya’ll think ya’ll sick, you ain’t sl!ck
i’m so ill, that i been had a sore thorat
dressed in all black, like charcoal
ya’ll follow bullsh-t, like it’s morse code
i got chinchillas in my wardrobe, i rep my n-ggas who rojo
i’m so out this world, that i use horoscopes as my microscope
i’m bout my zodiac, i sting like stingers on a scorpio
i’m on a roll, like school yo yo’s
b-tch, i’m colder than a fro-yo
and i crop squares, like photos
clips like d-ck, from p-rno’s, no h0m-
you got yes men, around you
but no b-tches that just goes to show hoe
like bug on a n-gga, feel like a insect
and flip your b-tch, like a tech deck
cut a n-gga throat, and my pistols vertical, like a v neck
if you tripping, get ya d-mn shoes tied
choke and stab, and smoothly let your blood
dry like a d-mn clothes line, you tripping my n-gga! [x3]
you tripping like d-mn!
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