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young dick mobbin - john cena lyrics

[intro]
let’s get it

[verse 1: tay-k]
bling, bling, bling, pinky ring fiend
newport boyz smoke focus with me
scott peeled off in a coff, r.i.p
f-ck the opps singing in the station like glee
heartbeat racing, you a p-ssy low-key
put this tec to your neck, where the f-ck is the green?
ski-mask off, so you know it was me
shopping at ross, that sh-t rock, it not clean
i cannot cough, it’s the promethazine
knockin’ at yo door, bet a 4′ for me
man hold up
pour some aunt jemima in my soda
block getting hot, need two motorolas
young b-tch on snap, she’s a b-tch like i told ya
bricks stay yellow, lil’ n-gg- like yoda
all these acts trashy, got a forum kinda color

[chorus: young d-ck mobbin]
my whip got the tints, so they can’t see me when i sip (i sip)
you be talking sh-t, while yo’ b-tch is at my crib
do not -ssociate with me (nah)
thots wanna procreate with me (nah)
i avoid ’em evasively
outshine any fool who facin’ me

[break]

[verse 2: young d-ck mobbin]
creepin’ round the cut, never creepin’ round the clip
all my goons grimy, all my goons be off them sh-ts
if you lookin’ for me, b-tch, i’m probably trappin’ out the crib
try to set me up, but you know i came equipped
with that burner, with that laser, tell them opps, “see you later”
i got tay-k with me, talkin’ sh-t, you catch that fader
i ain’t talkin’ magazines, i got a hundred round drum
we be chasin’ paper, hittin’ capers just for fun

- young dick mobbin lyrics

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