letra de like me - wifisfuneral & robb bank$
[intro: robb bank$]
hey cris, f-ck you!
femto!
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
okay
[chorus: robb bank$]
i don’t like you (woo-ooh), you don’t like me (woo-ooh)
you won’t fight me (woo-ooh) in my white tee (woo-ooh)
she say, “pipe me”, (woo-ooh) he so icy (woo-ooh)
f-ck my sidepiece (woo-ooh) in my nike (woo-ooh)
[verse 1: robb bank$]
mountain dew never look clear
put a six in here, got my red b-tch ridin’ on a lear
she one in a million like aaliyah
wit’ a blue lace wig, like the b-tch bang crip out here (yeah)
and i got a gun, blazer fit, tailor
fifteen thousand, and i spent it all on a sp-ceship (b-r-r-r)
and i got yo’ lil’ white baby, ridin’ a mercedes
and i told that hoe other sh-t (rah)
what’s yo’ flavor? (what it is?) flavor, savor (uh)
homegirl blasian (uh), initiation (uh, uh)
let you ride it like a harley davidson (i do)
young basquiat, paint her face with som’
you took that b-tch at home, now you layin’ up
gary oak when i’m jumpin’ at a gym
made a movie, made a film
yeah, i glowed up, but this is not a drill
i press a n-gga like a bad pill
king of ad-lib, really lived
i’m that story that you tell
like stop, drop and roll
got a glock wit’ a pole
have you ever seen a stripper shake and get up out them clothes?
got a swiss cheese tec, find a rat, whac-a-mole
and i’m runnin’ out of breath, need to stop smokin’ ‘ports, like
[chorus: robb bank$]
i don’t like you (woo-ooh), you don’t like me (woo-ooh)
you won’t fight me (woo-ooh) in my white tee (woo-ooh)
she say, “pipe me”, (woo-ooh) he so icy (woo-ooh)
f-ck my sidepiece (woo-ooh) in my nike (woo-ooh)
[verse 2: wifisfuneral]
pure black in my veins, b-tch, i’m not sane
smokin’ on pure gas, b-tch, octane
a little devil from the mud wit’ a rotten age
rollin’ up, rotten scene now outplayed
i was trappin’ out-back
lil’ zay wit’ a sack
got him grippin’ on his t–th, pure steel, that’s a gat
if we really talkin’ facts
i’m the best, that’s that
never played no chess
only playin’ wit’ address, i’m the boogeyman
creepin’ through yo’ b-tch bed sheets and you knew her, man
blonde headed b-tch suckin’ d-ck, goin’ super saiyan
skimmin’ through the bands, godd-mn
how you do it, d-mn?
ruger boy, rollin’ through the hood, i’m the rugerman
claim you gangsta, uh, you’s a w-nksta
nah, paper chaser, uh, you can’t be slime
you’s a prankster, nah, paper chaser, uh
you can’t be slime, uh, you’s a prankster, like
[outro: robb bank$]
i don’t like you (woo-ooh), you don’t like me (woo-ooh)
you won’t fight me (woo-ooh) in my white tee (woo-ooh)
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