| Call me a psycho cus I just might go
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| Shoot up ya block cus you’re walkin' on a tight-rope
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| Plus I’m off that nitro, yea that’s that loud pack
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| We don’t smoke bammer so its best that you fall back
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| San Francisco ball cat, you’re fuckin with a Giant
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| Ya niggas say ya real but the real is ya lyin
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| (???) is what I don’t do, real is what I live by
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| Fuck whatcha goin' through if you’re tryna (tempt?) mine
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| Im tryna get mine ballin fuck getting by
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| You suckas hatin' cus you fallin' like a zipline
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| While I sip wine with a thick bitch with thick thighs
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| Small waist pretty face, tryna get high
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| She said she like real niggas, no farce
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| But you’re bitchmade actin worse than these broads
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| Goin' through they menstral, all up in ya mental
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| Just like a bitch ya keep dick up in ya dental
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| Damn
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| It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
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| All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
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| Money, gone, lookin all old
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| Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
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| Cock, reload, sellout shows
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| Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
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| Don’t tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
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| Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
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| You can hip, hop on the muthafuckin' jock
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| Im an RBL nigga getting money 'round the clock
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| And these bitches don’t stop when it comes to this black nigga
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| In the Bay, I’m a legendary rap figure
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| Plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat nigga
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| You’re not loyal to the soil you’s a rat nigga
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| And I’m a real one, the last of a dying breed
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| Im off kush muhfuckah you smoke bammer weed
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| I fuck with top notch bitches in that Prada wear
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| You fuck with low budget bitches with them bobble heads
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| Yea, you niggas strictly sickly
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| For real, you niggas can’t get with me
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| And you can believe it or not like Ripleys
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| Ya boy been an underground king like Pimp C
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| Or like Mac Dre, or like Mr. C
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| I go hard on a bitch, no sympathy
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| It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
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| All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
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| Money, gone, lookin all old
|
| Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
|
| Cock, reload, sellout shows
|
| Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
|
| Don’t tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
|
| Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
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| You say oh god cus im givin' you hell
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| Leather jacket, adidas with them shells
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| You can miss me like a stray bullet
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| Gary Coleman on ya ass with a new Qillis
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| Sheeit, God-Khan but I’m still a capo
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| I let the weed hit me while Jimi Hendrix sang Sand Castles
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| I dip through the big pineapple
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| And if you see me real quick its something like an eye sample
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| It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
|
| All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
|
| Money, gone, lookin all old
|
| Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
|
| Cock, reload, sellout shows
|
| Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
|
| Don’t tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
|
| Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Bobble Heads, artist - Andre Nickatina. Album song Andre Nickatina, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп