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letra de uber wit a dub - sob x rbe

[chorus: lul g]
n-ggas want me dead, so i’m ridin’ wit’ the stick (ridin’ wit’ the stick)
glock 22 wit’ a thirty in that b-tch (boom, boom)
up this b-tch on ’em, better pray i don’t miss
catch that bucket up in traffic, you gon’ get that sh-t flipped (nerd n-gga)
in a uber wit’ a dub, got that bag on me
i don’t like the conversation i don’t talk, b-tch you can cash on me (dumb b-tch)
baby slide me, it can’t fold that’s that fast money
f-ck the feds they on the other line, they been tappin’

[post chorus: lul g]
p-ssy n-gga want the beef, guess what? you can have it (nerd n-gga)
drew banga on the beat so this muf-cka slappin’ (muf-cka slappin’)
glock 21, i’m a muf-ckin’ savage (boom, boom)
moon walkin’ in these jugs call that boppin’ wit’ this plastic (lil’ b-tch)

[verse 1: daboii]
just had a convo wit’ the mic, i ain’t puttin’ it down
and you the type to act a -ss when it’s p-ssy around
and i’m a stand up type n-gga, can’t push me around
i told security mind they business, ain’t pattin’ me down
and i was broke it’s h-lla jokes, come and laugh at me now
and this glock like shaquille how it’s backin’ him down
you ain’t investing with them bands you’ll be back in a drought
keep on callin’ in for work and be back on the couch
ops want smoke? f-ck it let ’em have it all
n-gga you been lost up in that sauce, but here’s a map for y’all
that syrup gon’ help me catch up on them z’s like the dragon ball
and i never wear a hat, i don’t cap at all
death threats, they make my tummy tickle
p-ssy you can’t hide forever we gon’ come and get you
and i don’t give a f-ck if my cousin wit’ you
’cause on the love for the gang this sh-t unconditional

[verse 2: yhung t.o.]
been like a month since i done slid through the sucka side (through the sucka side)
but don’t trip i’m on my way so n-gga run and hide (n-gga run and hide)
and we gon’ catch you n-ggas slippin’ it just come wit’ time (it just come wit’ time)
it’s rbn obm n-gga ain’t nowhere to sign
i don’t wanna think you n-ggas took my kindness for weakness
fifty bands on my wrist, b-tch you broke you ain’t eatin’ (broke you ain’t eatin’)
slid wit’ this chop and drop it off ’cause i ain’t need it (’cause i ain’t need it)
talk? ain’t no reason, n-gga ain’t no reasoning (ain’t no reasoning)
ooh i’ma be glad when these n-ggas ain’t breathin’ (ain’t breathin’)
slingin’ wit’ no mask on my face you can see it (you can see it)
and when i had this glock on ’em he ain’t believe it (ain’t believe it )
oh, head shot so the doctor can’t treat it (oh)
i ain’t f-ckin’ wit’ you n-ggas, that’s on tu and l
they say rich n-ggas don’t do drills, but i’ma do it still
n-gga’s gettin’ out of hand i had to put him in his place
i’ma slide and slide again until they put me in my grave

[post chorus]
p-ssy n-gga want the beef, guess what? you can have it (nerd n-gga)
drew banga on the beat so this muf-cka slappin’ (muf-cka slappin’)
glock 21, i’m a muf-ckin’ savage (boom, boom)
moon walkin’ in these jugs call that boppin’ wit’ this plastic (lil’ b-tch)

- sob x rbe

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