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letra de bobble heads - andre nickatina

andre nickatina – bobble heads (ft. black c)

[verse 1: black c]
call me a psycho cus i just might go
shoot up ya block cus you’re walkin’ on a tight-rope
plus i’m off that nitro, yea that’s that loud pack
we don’t smoke bammer so its best that you fall back
san francisco ball cat, you’re f-ckin with a giant
ya n-ggas say ya real but the real is ya lyin
(???) is what i don’t do, real is what i live by
f-ck whatcha goin’ through if you’re tryna (tempt?) mine
im tryna get mine ballin f-ck getting by
you suckas hatin’ cus you fallin’ like a zipline
while i sip wine with a thick b-tch with thick thighs
small waist pretty face, tryna get high
she said she like real n-ggas, no farce
but you’re b-tchmade actin worse than these broads
goin’ through they menstral, all up in ya mental
just like a b-tch ya keep d-ck up in ya dental
d-mn

[hook – andre nickatina]
it’s the god khan version, magic, ervin
all them suckas is crashin’, burnin’
money, gone, lookin all old
look at my poker face, i’ll never fold
c-ck, reload, sellout shows
mouse rangs and all thangs , pull out ya gold
don’t tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
hammer up like stan burrell on bail

[verse 2: black c]
you can hip, hop on the m-th-f-ckin’ jock
im an rbl n-gga getting money ’round the clock
and these b-tches don’t stop when it comes to this black n-gga
in the bay, i’m a legendary rap figure
plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat n-gga
you’re not loyal to the soil you’s a rat n-gga
and i’m a real one, the last of a dying breed
im off kush muhf-ckah you smoke bammer weed
i f-ck with top notch b-tches in that prada wear
you f-ck with low budget b-tches with them bobble heads
yea, you n-ggas strictly sickly
for real, you n-ggas can’t get with me
and you can believe it or not like ripleys
ya boy been an underground king like pimp c
or like mac dre, or like mr. c
i go hard on a b-tch, no sympathy

[hook: andre nickatina]
it’s the god khan version, magic, ervin
all them suckas is crashin’, burnin’
money, gone, lookin all old
look at my poker face, i’ll never fold
c-ck, reload, sellout shows
mouse rangs and all thangs , pull out ya gold
don’t tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes
hammer up like stan burrell on bail

[verse 3: andre nickatina]
you say oh god cus im givin’ you h-ll
leather jacket, adidas with them sh-lls
you can miss me like a stray bullet
gary coleman on ya -ss with a new qillis
sheeit, god-khan but i’m still a capo
i let the weed hit me while jimi hendrix sang sand castles
i dip through the big pineapple
and if you see me real quick its something like an eye sample

- andre nickatina

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