| Hello there, you’re back
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| We don’t have much time to waste
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| The eclipse is almost here
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| Let’s just jump on into it, shall we?
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| Yea!
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| I put that teardrop right under my eyes
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| Got a bitch Ronda Rousey, knock out every night
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| I could hold my own funeral so you don’t slide
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| I can count on the bodies the times I done cried
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| I was out in a mansion, Elon
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| Marinara sauce on me, my tie
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| Hoe, you can’t even dress, trynna take up my time
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| Bitch say she into fashion, stop lyin'
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| I fake-fake fall in love all the time
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| Always dub one and I always keep a dime
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| Play wit' her pussy like I play wit' her mind
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| Yellow bitch wit' the face-tats like Lil Skies
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| I heard the pussy musky, no Grimes
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| Off of this Tesla, swear nothin' can’t faze me
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| Let’s have a baby, name it an equation
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| Sorry, I can move a lil' fast sometimes
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| Line outside wrapped around, where ya' ticket?
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| 20,000 hoes waitin' in the cold to lick it
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| Back step, blockin' these bitches like Tekken
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| Spinnin' on my head, Eddy, I kick her out butt naked
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| Make somebody daughter shake what they mama gave 'em
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| I ain’t no snitch but I’m tellin' if you break it
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| Put that ass on punishment, you bad, need a spankin'
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| Open yo' mouth for these Dragon Balls then make ya' wishes, I
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| Don’t like how she talk
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| Braggin' like you got me off
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| Made the bitch suck dick on soft
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| You fool, this ain’t even my final form
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| I’m Frieza, this ice by GiMa got me cold! |
| (Yea)
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| Rinnegan, snatch a bitch’s soul
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| I pull 'em in, pull it out, sub 'em in, throw 'em out (Yea)
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| I’m the type of panties she be talkin' 'bout (Yea)
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| Pull it out the pants, make her suck sum' (Yea)
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| I don’t think clear 'til that nut gone (Yea)
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| She think 'bout her future when I fuck (Yea)
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| I think about leavin' after I cum (Yea)
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| I can make a bitch in a Phantom (Yea)
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| I don’t wanna talk 'bout my last one (Yea)
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| I already got caught wit' the last one (Yea)
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| Used to have to fuck her wit' the lights off (Yea)
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| Make it sound good for me baby, uh-huh
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| Tell your boyfriend
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| I look so good she could fuck on my shadow
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| Know when I’m on wax, niggas can’t hold the candle
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| I got a white bitch, Kappa Gamma, get paddled
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| Hump wit' intuition, she ride like a saddle
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| When she bring her sorority sister, we wrestle
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| Give my seed like a farmer and treat her like cattle
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| Brand a, bitch, switch
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| Paci', let me, milk this, shit
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| Enny, Audi, Eda, Benny
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| Free him, out the, peni-tentiary
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| Baby, I’ma, give you a, physical
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| Pop this, lil', Tesla, wit' me
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| Speed it
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| Speed it up
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| Be-be-beat it up
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| Meep meep, roadrunner, never, catch me
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| Gold, ruby
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| Red, ruby
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| Like Sesshomaru, single-handed, talkin' 'bout (Yea)
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| 'Cuz I made killers and I’m a made nigga
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| Never gave birth but I made you bitches (Chyea)
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| 16, I was growin' up, on the block, showin' up, first wit' the K wit'
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| compression
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| You can ask 'round 'bout me, even when I was a shorty, make 'em get on they
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| knees so I could bless 'em
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| My wrist like «Bust me»
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| My hoes like «Touch me»
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| When you drop that tongue ring
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| Come and show me something
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| Ooh-ooh
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| She want Chanel and the diamonds and gold
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| Watered her like-like I ain’t done this before
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| Steady lookin' 'round trynna find her phone
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| She tried to do another line, baby wipe yo' nose
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| I put that teardrop right under my eyes
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| Got a bitch Ronda Rousey, knock out every night
|
| I could hold my own funeral so you don’t slide
|
| I can count on the bodies the times I done cried
|
| I was out in a mansion, Elon
|
| Marinara sauce on me, my tie
|
| Hoe, you can’t even dress, trynna take up my time
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| Bitch say she into fashion, stop lyin' |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Mobster , by - Robb Bank$. Song from the album Tha Leak 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп