Lyrics Mobbin - Rasheed

Mobbin

Its for my mob figgas
My mob figgas
My dolla billas
And my dope dealas
Guerillas
And killas getting jigga
From city to city
We be runnin wit no pity
Niggas that’s thinkin they witty
Be endin up in the gutter shitty
Be dying for kitty cat
Petty like pity pat
In a city that don’t give a damn
About you less you clockin grands
Understand
That’s game
That’s the game gone till be till the end of time
Whether you dealin, exortin, killin, or writin rhymes
Me and my clicka slicka
Me rujer that’s me chicka
Me love to finga freaka
So listen to her speaka
We burnin down the block
And boilin the blood that it bleed
Ya boy Rasheed
Blazin the bomb weed
Let me proceed
To lace em up enterprise
Center ya eyes
On the prize
No matta the size
Wise guys workin my franchise
Hatas despise
Seein us rise
Capitalize while they fantasize
You gotta be that Miro Miro Miro
I mean the boss maan
For that you gotta have alota balls maan
Killa assassin like Sicily
Sneaky sicillian
Meet me at the pavillion
Sippin on hen twisted with lime and gin
These bitches they hoppin on them players
Makin mail in this game they coochie poppin
And wanna lay us
Wicked widows wit bodies that a make you leave ya wife
Soon as she get you you turn your back
She stab you wit a knife
We keep it bumpin
Never lovin these hoes scrubbin
That’s the way it goes when you dealin wit pros
Stay playaistic
Or get it twisted
That’s the motto
Keep it calm and pop anotha champagne bottle
And let’s get fucked up everyday like it’s a celebration
Bangin that music from the speaker givin good vibrations
And put the funk in the air
We got the skunk ova here
Future millionares tellin the coppers we
Blaze one for the nation
No playahation
And buck a shot in ya location
Pleasure and pain
So many years gotta deal wit the aggravated mind
Time is money
But the money is so addicted to me
It’s just history
From shit I be kickin so wickedly
Now that we elevated it’s a changin of time
Dirty nigga from the slums of the Philadel
La connecta wit Mexicanoes in Texas it’s burnin hell
We hot, hot, hot
Don’t fuck around we chop chop
Shit down from A Town
Saviola wit the A.K. in the baby srtolla
Slangin birds wion the Internet
Commit murder through Motorola’s
Illegal means makin money
By any means necessary
Crossin the bosses we ain’t leavin no commentary
But cemetaries two elevens and one eight sevens
Bad habits cause homie I gotta have it
Spittin bullets of the D.A. and the crooked popo
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