letra de bobby builder - ak bandamont
[intro]
(turn that b-tch up, dinero)
[verse]
ha, yeah, i’m a bag builder
fiend od’d a hundred times, he’s still alive, he ain’t mac miller
i had turned fifteen, said f-ck the weed, i’m a crack dealer
i just robbed a pharmacy, i’m an act’ sipper
i kicked her out the crib, then she got mad, she got a wack temper
i knew that b-tch was tryna f-ck, she had a black with her
i let her in the crib, she came back trippin’ and brought a cat with her
i made a k!llin’ off that dog and the cat litter
ha, yeah, i am not jokin’
this n-gga hit the scene and whipped out stick, but he did not blow it
lil’ girly sniffеd the white, her nosе started bleedin’, but she did not blow it
i just set one play and k!lled ten snakes, i did not mow ’em
i just got one plate of pure cocaine and i did not show it
my doggy bone got tired of shootin’ chops, he a glock blower
i’m posted in the party, i’m by myself and i got blower
you was the one with the soft i’d make it stretch and then it got lower
i told girly get down and suck the d-ck, then she got lower
we in the marriott steppin’ on ice, we on the top floor
she’d suck the d-ck ten hours straight, this my top wh0re
you probably see a n-gga get robbed for half a brick and call the cops on him
i caught a n-gga lackin’, hit him up close and poured out pop on him
this n-gga tried to rob me, i stomped him out, he called pops on me
b-tch, do not be askin’ stupid sh-t, look what i got on me
this n-gga was hidin’ out inside his hood, i sicked the block on him
i’ll have his cousin catch him lackin’ and whip chop on him
i just dropped a bag on n-ggas’ head, it’s a lot on ’em
and you ain’t never spinned the block, you won’t survive on it
she was goin’ through h-ll this whole week, i made her cry on it
i told lil’ bro go catch a n-gga lackin’, i got a prize for it
he k!lled that n-gga on his first day out, i’m gettin’ high for it
my dog just made five mil’ off two states, he got a nice warrant
i tell lil’ girly chill, ain’t tryna argue, she wanna fight more
my dog been runnin’ cribs the last two weeks, he on his ninth door
my arab made a k!llin’ off the states, he got nine stores
i caught him with a big hammer and stomped him out, b-tch, i don’t like thor
i sent a hundred out one drum, i got clip dancin’
b-tch, we goin’ to the mall, don’t ask for sh-t, you ain’t with santa
unless you stuffed your cl-tty up, here go a cl-t present
i just stuffed a fn with a hundred, that’s a clip present
lil’ girly hit my line sayin’ dumb sh-t, we had to quit textin’
why you assume sh-t that you don’t know? you need to quit guessin’
b-tch, i was probably at the trap gettin’ a brick ready
it done took too long to cut it off ’cause the brick heavy
b-tch, i’m finna be outside today, i’m finna get ready
i’m finna cop a h-llcat with red guts and the rims heavy
you can’t walk a mile inside my shoes, my timbs heavy
my dog’d k!ll you for some blood, he a brim heavy
my mexican’d cut your head off with a machete
i can hit a n-gga from twenty blocks away, i hope this b-tch steady
i’m tryna stuff her up with twenty zips, but is the b-tch steady?
she’d k!ll a n-gga in his dreams, i call her “ms. freddie”
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