Lyrics Back to tha City (Outro) - Robb Bank$

Back to tha City (Outro)

I got what you want and I got, I got what you need
I got what you want and I got, I got what you need
I got what you want
And I know you workin' long nights
Just to keep the belly full and have your mind right
I admire your drive, you crash this Audi truck we both dying (Rah, rah)
Feeding tube for all my opps, so they got they jaws wired (Yuh)
Baby mama hogtied, for real
I bet that you thought I’d never let you down, I told you
F-fuck you every hour, pick the flowers heed my warning (Come 'ere)
I’ma lay you down, don’t make a sound drown in my water (Shh)
Fill me up with doubt, you look around, come in the morning
I just met the Devil in Atlanta, Georgia (Yeah)
In a hotel room with a tape recorder (Yeah)
We shot a music video that we both starred in (Yeah)
Read over offers to be the ones to solve each others problems, for real
Talk to 2 Phone like a 3 way call girl (Brr, brr)
And your friend said she like my fit last time, call your homegirl (Swear)
You deserve a 150 roses like a outcall (Facts)
Head in the office, secretary be the fly child (Yuh)
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the—
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the— (Sset, Sset, Sset, Sset, Sset,
Sset)
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the—
Back to the trap, goin' back to the city, back to the— (Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)
Turn your back on that nigga, back on these nigga’s backs, down like (Yuh)
Back to the business, count up all my bitches, keep (Sset, Sset)
Count like I’m on the Sizzurp, got my words sl-iz-urred, count, count up (Wak,
wak, wak, wak, dah, dah, dah, dah)
Count up all the digits, count up Montecristo, count (Dah, dah, rah, rah, rah,
rah)
Go to see my 22 inch Brazilian (-ish, -ish)
My IG videos like Tarzan in the box office (-ice, -ice)
Was on a vine before you could even get 5 seconds (-onds, -onds)
Had to open book for rap, like a found a presence (-sence, -sence)
I was waitin' to refine way before that (Yuh)
If a nigga shoot once, we blow back (Bap)
Can’t eat your pussy, ain’t on that
Yeah, I know my worth, and you worthless
I walk around town where the birds at
She ain’t a real bad thot, I swerve that
She smell like Chic Cologne, but she curve it
Prescription Cartier, she nerdy, brains
Chopper gonna sing, I serve all the fangs, bone marrow
Fly a murder scene, call that EMT, don’t play wit' em
My trigger finger got a ring, coworkers want Griffith, big
Femto work out all your kinks, and I’m on the brink like Disney Channel (Rah,
rah)
Guns and butter, yeah, yeah, that’s all that matter
Fuck, fuck, fuck your mother, did I, did I, did I stutter?
Yeah, yeah, fifty thousand, (Rah rah) Porsche carbon fiber (Rah, rah)
Need a fast car, (Rawr) and your bitch the driver
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the—
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the—
Back to the trap, back to the city, back to the—
Back to the trap, goin' back to the city, back to the—
Back on that nigga, back on these nigga’s backs, down like
Back to the business, count up all my bitches, keep
Count like I’m on the Sizzurp, got my words sl-iz-urred, count, count up
Count up all the digits, count up Montecristo, count, Griffith