Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Robin Hood, artist - Philthy Rich.
Date of issue: 26.07.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Robin Hood |
June, you’re a genius |
Ayy, find they hood, ayy |
Shoot them niggas, ayy |
Like Rodney Hood, ayy |
Huh, huh, I doubt they fire back |
I doubt they fire back |
I doubt they fire back |
Who them niggas? |
Ayy |
Find they hood, ayy |
Shoot them niggas, ayy |
Rodney Hood, ayy |
I doubt they fire back |
Ah, Robin Williams, ayy |
Ah, rob a rich nigga |
Ah, Robin Hood, ayy |
Ah, who them niggas? |
Ayy |
Ah, find they hood, ayy |
Ah, shoot them niggas, ayy |
Ah, Rodney Hood, ayy |
I doubt they fire back |
Ah, Robin Williams, ayy |
Ah, rob a rich nigga |
Ah, Robin Hood, ayy, ugh |
Pussy ass nigga, don’t bother me |
I hold my Draco awkwardly |
Mom said I can’t have company |
Nigga better not ever not come for me |
Knock a nigga out of his Robin jeans |
I’m up but still commit robberies |
Hollow hit him in the stomach, colonoscopy |
Break a bitch heart with honesty |
Pour my drink, that’s Honest Tea |
Lil' bitch with me got gonorrhea |
Like I can’t pay her no mind |
Fuck around and get to actin' crazy like |
Like I can’t pay her no mind |
Fuck around, she tryna have a baby |
I throw a bitch off the backboard |
Slam her back in, Scuba Tracy McGrady like huh |
Hmm hmm, let me tell you somethin' |
My young dawg here tryna sell you somethin', huh |
Pull a four-five on a nigga then I just lay him |
Guess that’s where the hell he from, hey |
No cap, I’m filthy rich |
Big homie gave me fifty bricks, ayy |
No cap, I’ma hit your bitch |
Block her number after she suck my dick like huh |
Gang, gang, gang, gang, gang in the living room |
Auntie give my shit to Philthy for me, she gon' send it to him |
A nigga say he ain’t got my re-up, then we gon' get into it |
I might have the whole Seminary put them pistols to him |
18, left him 'bout thirty, hmm |
Twelve shots went to a murder, huh |
Seventeen bars on Wednesday, hmm |
Two-three fives by Thursday, hmm |
Five hundred dollars for the Bulova, hmm |
Twenty-eight thousand for the Rollie, huh |
Twenty-five thousand for the crib game |
Better not steal 'bout five dollar Rollies, huh |
Look, I say, hundred thou' out a bad bitch |
She a centerfold, nothin' average (Uh-uh) |
Still the number one draft pick |
Three to win the game off the glass, bitch (It's Philthy, ho) |
Amiri jeans cost a little thousand (Designer) |
Amiri jacket cost two bands (Designer) |
Skinny jeans with stupid bands |
Tell Skuba Steve do the Skuba dance |
In the D like I’m from there (Ayy, what up, though?) |
Name a nigga ever did that (Ain't nan' one) |
Play with me and get kidnapped (Ayy, do that) |
We slid up and slid back (Slide) |
Hundred thousand with gold or somethin' (Chump change) |
Another hundred thousand or a hundred (Swear to God) |
Bought my Asian bitch a pair of buffs |
She ain’t even wore them bitches once (It's Philthy) |
In the red zone with some reds on (Red bottoms) |
Seminary nigga, kill zone (Seminary) |
Smokin' on gelato, kill zone (It's five nothin') |
Ten thousand, boy, the pills gone (Is that right?) |
On the East Side, nigga, 7 Mile (East Side) |
Told the plug I need the big amount (I need that) |
Bitch say she wanna settle down (Bitch) |
Talkin' 'bout she want a wedding now (It's Philthy) |
On the turnaround, nigga, me and Smoke (Turnaround) |
Ten years fora key of coke (Thirty-six) |
They flick they lights, I’ma run they ass |
This a track car, all they seein' smoke (Swear to God) |
Chanel bags for my bottom bitch |
Every year the ho stayed down (Solid) |
Chopper ringin' off in the hood |
Better grab the hoods off the playground (You better) |
Steak, lobster, and shrimp, bitch (What else?) |
Fried rice with the combination (Ayy, eat it up) |
Fuck his baby mama with the F&N |
Make him give up the combination (You better, nigga) |
Fifty pointers in the diamond chain (Bust down) |
New rose gold set from Gary (Bust down) |
Fast money like Big Berry (Fast money) |
Broke nigga, he secondary, it’s Philthy |