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robert "røb" lopez - no sweat lyrics

[intro]
yeah, i know i’m ’bout to change it up a little bit, but, yeah, turn me up

[verse]
yo, røb, why you rappin’ on a type beat? (ooh)
“top of the charts, no sh+t, yeah, i might be (sheesh)
new to the game: r+ø+b, they don’t like me
now b+tches on my d+ck in the club going hyphy
ooh, did i say that? (huh?)
sh+t, i don’t even mean that
she don’t even text back, left me on ghost like a mothaf+ckin’ snapchat
never taking breaks from my bars like a kit kat
stop, wait, hold up, flex
hunchback slouch from the diamonds on my neck, uh huh
step, step, laced up nike jordan number 1, ’cause i’m runnin’ to the check, uh
b+b+b+boutta hit a l!cky, slide to the bank, money lookin’ silly (sheesh)
money lookin stupid, not a big dealy
feeling like wayne, ’cause i’m boutta hit a milli (uh)
yeah, i just started rap (ayy)
money and the fame, gimme all of that (gimme, gimme)
i can see clearly that this is my year (yo)
20/20 vision, no cataracts, so
what is the move (what?), cook in the stu’
grrr, i’m a dog, money so blue
calling you “steve”, ’cause you don’t have a clue (ah, haha)
always so sick, so i don’t catch no flues
+cough, sniffling+ okay, yeah
beating on my chest like a bongo, macho
wanna start beef? put my meat in her taco, nachos
b+tch so wet, need a poncho, pr+nto
huh, please let me say this
why girls on ig be the fakest?
“wanna link up? please get on the waitlist”
i am the greatest
they don’t know me, but i’m all on their playlist
you hate this? nah
flow so new, you old like grandma
snap, snap, shutter up like cam+amera
eat her like b+ttercup, b+tch, i need stamina
make her say “ayy”, but she ain’t from canada
ooh, yikes, don’t crease the shoes
turn up, lit off the booze
run up my cheese, pay up your dues
run up the streams, turn up my tunes
la di da di da
ooh, she wanna slob on my kn+b, ooh
i got the toolies like bob, ooh
keepin’ a stick like corn on the cob (haha)
man, this is awesome
on top, how’s it feel at the bottom?
don’t ball, but i might have to cross ’em
make ’em stop, play dead like a possum
feel like spring, ’cause your boy aboutta blossom
friday night drops, everybody wanna cop ’em
shoot my shots, oh well, i’m boutta toss ’em
whole fam on the back, no sweat, you know that i got ’em
[outro]
ayy, yeah

- robert rob lopez lyrics

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