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robb bank$ - grown boy lyrics

[intro]
sucked my d-ck that’s a true fact
brrrrrrt, true fact true fact true fact (background talking)
baby girl you do the most
wanna f-ck with uno dos
b-tch, best rapper alive
xan with that lean is the combination
uno dos, uno, uno
whoo ooh

[verse 1]
n-gg-, don’t let em in
spelling bee queen, double s letterman
i got too much pride to be prejudice
i got too much narc got kirk with me
curtain call when i walk in it
n-gg-s die b-tches curse and lift up their dress
four when i sever it, karo in cabinents
n-gg-, i know how to get rid of evidence
on the team rocket, i blast off
i still miss the mouth on my last hoe
i came by mistake that’s my fault
so i f-cked the b-tch in her -sshole
since coral springs high i had two phones
young n-gg-, you know i stay ten toes (deep!)
know that gpa 1 point 0
f-ck em f-ck em where did that shit go

[hook]
you think it’s easy to keep her
i got yo b-tch in a sleeper
i used to sell drugs by the bleachers
now i could f-ck all my teachers
you bought that coach bag for a cheap hoe
supreme coat jacket in cheetah
o.g since 2013
ike on the mic like i’m tina
i’m a grown boy i’m a, i’m a grown boy
i’m a grown boy i’m a, i’m a grown boy
i’m a grown boy i’m a, i’m a grown boy
i’m a grown boy i’m a, i’m a grown boy

[verse 2]
booney booney boy boy, goofy loser boy
free juice and goony boy, boy i learned from looney boy
i’m tyson eat the box, floyd forty-nine the hoe
i’m kenshi wanna boy toy
bounce all on ma boing boing
these lames cannot be serious
infrared for those inferiors
everyone’s watching feel bad for you
i know that shit must be embarr-ssing
i’m petty so you know she rub my head
i f-ck her i might verify that b-tch
no punctuation failed my english test
so now i f-ck hoes on they periods (i do!)
my check up, just look at my get up
you fed up come get you a head up
i’m so special so special so special
thirty-eight on my leather get with her
i upset her, i didn’t wanna hit her
watched the westbrooks and i got my d-ck up
popped a perc but the hood is viagra
shut my eyes and imagine she indian
them hoes they filled with the left
you at burlington, browsing through racks
see me i just do til death
you call her phone, she went deaf
you the type of n-gg- argue with yo girl and get slapped
chain thinner than a b-tch but it could still get snatched
gimmie one year, i’m eating emma roberts from the back
bet i put her on the track, that’s a true fact

[bridge]
grown boy shit grown boy grown boy shit
grown boy glo’d on you b-tch
glo’d up, glowing on you b-tch
grown boy shit grown boy grown boy shit
hands up hands up b-tch if you sucked my d-ck

- robb bank lyrics

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