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sob x rbe - game on lyrics

[intro]
from parts unknown

[verse 1: slimmy b]
n-ggas wanna play? i ain’t trippin’ n-gga game on
tints so dark can’t see sh-t with these shades on
we don’t do no askin’ round here we just take souls
stock in a glock and i’ma bust till his face gone
no it ain’t the .40, walkin’ funny ’cause the bankroll
choppa get to singin’, put that draco on drake mode
make a n-gga and his b-tch dance, no tango
i’m bustin’ then daboii is too, real bang bros
take a b-tch, bandit, these n-ggas can’t stand it
they think i’m mariah how i let go this cannon
sh-t get real we in the field we don’t panic
strap a 3k, tryna klu klux klan sh-t
.45 get to trippin’, like that b-tch havin’ a tantrum
nerds tryna copy, you know i had to uncle sam ’em
stomp a n-gga out, in these bred 1’s band ’em
dumb hoes, bum hoes, f-ck i can’t stand ’em
wanna f-ck with us you broke n-ggas betta team up
this .40 got me walkin ’round the hood like i’m king tut
bands on me bust down, b-tch not a thing tucked
was runnin’ ’round the hood broke, till a n-gga beast up
i’m from the north pole
where them n-ggas keep poles
glock on t.o
will make you sing like ne-yo
coppin’ guns but can’t shoot, like shaq at the free throw
and n-ggas cold, what the f-ck you think i got this heat for?
me and bro p-ssin’ b-tches i can’t even speak on
back to back treat they -ss, like we playin’ ping-pong
xd on d.b-ttah pokin’ out the peacoat
and this .40 shootin’ sh-t that’s knocking down king kong lil n-gga

[verse 2: yhung t.o.]
big four five on my hip got me leanin’
already had christian’s, ‘fore i walked up in neiman’s, n-gga
would you believe me if i said i talk demons, baby?
red bottoms having conversations bout jesus, baby
young n-gga still posted in the hood
sending shots to a opp n-ggas thought it was good
got k’s, f-ckface, cop ace for the joog
pourin’ ace for the pain ’cause i came from the mud
i was posted on the block 32 in the chop
wit’ a glock that’ll knock a n-gga head to his socks
n-gga stop it, talking cash sh-t i’m the profit
three bands for the ‘fit you go broke tryna cop it
and a, young n-gga never had sh-t, uh
had to get it, had to add sh-t up
grandma told me, ‘baby never give up’
find a hole and put your mans in one

[verse 3: daboii]
whole gang in party, omg that’s a lotta poles
make a wrong move, then them straps take a lotta souls
you a nappy head? then them straps take a lotta fros
try and cut me off, give a f-ck got a lotta hoes
rollin’ up the loud, d-mn i think i met a angel
b-tch i’m the sh-t, got me feelin’ like the -n-l
syrup in that sprite, nah n-gga this ain’t maple
he thought he had a b-tch till we slid. where his main go?
stop speaking on my name, b-tch you barely know the half
i would let you hold a loaf, but you barely good at math
brought a .40 in the party, i ain’t worried ’bout a jab
tryna f-ck? where that check? i ain’t worried ’bout no -ss
b-tch… it’s a muzzle on that strap
break a b-tch down when i f-ck her from the back
i know b-tches want my cheese, and i ain’t cuffin’ on a rat
and i know these n-ggas plottin’, so i’m clutchin’ on a strap
and i know these n-ggas fake, bro told me keep the circle small
n-ggas really nerds what the f-ck? cut them urkel’s off
and you n-ggas fake, omg, god who birthed ’em all?
circle full of hittas, lil n-gga ain’t a nerd involved

[verse 4: lul g]
b-tch i been in these streets
b-tch i been totin’ heat
no stock, big clips for you p-ssies tryna creep
sob the gang for you n-ggas love to speak
same young wild n-ggas, f-ck a n-gga b-tch to sleep
but t.o. ridin’ round with that draco
stay up in yo lane lil n-gga ’cause it’s game on
f-ck around and have shots fired n-gga case closed
hit the stash spot, f-ck a n-gga need a bank for?
me and slimmy rollin’ ‘woods, of that dank up
slid on the block, bounced out wit’ they chains tucked
callin’ coppin please lol that is lame stuff
better be smart ‘fore this .40 put yo’ brains up
big safe hold bands of them bankrolls
broke boys can’t compare, n-gga these is play clothes
nerd!

- sob x rbe lyrics

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