Skilla Baby and Rob49 - Soulja Slimm

(Diego)
(Chambers)
(They know when we step in the store, bitch, we shuttin' down whole store)
Huh?
(Now it's magic, but it looks magical)
Huh (DJ Bandz)

Nigga, I was hustlin' dog shit 'fore my rap career started
All the fans think I'm a artist, really, nigga, I'm retarded
Bitch, they know me by first name at Saks Fifth and Neiman Marcus
I done smacked heads and served crackheads in them apartments (said)

Have you ever seen a junkie OD off big dope?
I done seen a lot of niggas get pimped out by they ho
I done stuffed dick in her ass, they called 49 a asshole
I done ran up me some bands, they think I be with Durk and 'nem (huh?)

Make my fiend kill a nigga, make a blowhead blow at him
Make her fuck me in slow motion, Juvenile, Soulja Slimm
She want me and 49, she know we both comin' trim
Too P, shit, she me, I'm too turnt to be a simp (said, huh?)

Plus, her old nigga a shrimp, he ain't havin' like this
I done spent a hundred thousand on my brand new bitch
I can't stuff guap in my pocket 'cause my pants too skinny
When we walk inside in this bitch, nigga, know I'm that nigga (woo)
Bronem tryna score, alright? You better come get your ho (huh), yeah

Bronem already know, if they see his ass, blow for sure (huh)
We tryna paint his ass, can't nobody save his ass
It's Skilla and Crazy Man (baow), bitch, I'm a maniac

Ooh, I'm doin' a diamond dance
Fuck hoes, no strings attached
I know me and bro cool and all, but where my paper at?
It's Skilla and Crazy Man, we known for spendin' bands
It cost when you fuck bad hoes in one night, I paid her wet (woo)

We known for havin' Glocks with switches, gettin' on niggas' ass
We play for hits, not attempts, nigga, send that paper back
My dukes'll sick a court date, she couldn't wait to say I rap
My boy ain't never went to college, he be steppin' like a frat

Yeah, listen to me closely, he sell white like he a honky, huh
I done killed the game to get this cheese, that's blood money, huh
And my cousin Crip, but he'll still blood somethin', huh
I don't even much see how niggas want beef with no money

Baby wetter than an ocean, pussy put me in a coma
Seen so many niggas die, pull up, shootin' no emotion
Rap got me rich, but I still shake a bag in North Dakota
What you got that nine for? I'll still rob like I'm from Nola

Still'll rob like I'm from Nola, I got that bag and turned my ho up
First time nigga come play with this, we killin' him dead, you gotta know it
On they ass, they know 49 be kickin' shit like he a horse
Seen a lot of niggas die, I still got hate inside my heart, ooh
Love, I'm tryna tell you, whenever you lie to me, I know it

A couple niggas I wanna kill when I'm at home, but I don't show it
A nigga play me, I torch him
Mama, I need a lawyer
My first Glock was sweet as hell, the hood flip me, I throw it (woo, woo)

Sir, I'm fuckin' your daughter
I still sell weed in the apartments
I still get bitches when I'm in my city, I J that P like Morgan
I'm sayin', you feel me, dog?
Kill shit like Holocaust
He play today, I swear to God, he in the morgue tomorrow

Yeah
Pop yo' shit, Skilla
313-504 shit, man, stop playin' with a nigga
Ha, hahaha, yeah
VC in V-, you know what I'm sayin'?
Boston cartel, Boston mafia, nigga know what it is, man
Yeah, fuck how you feelin'
Yeah, it is what it is

Written by:
Demetrius Bell, Diego Avendano, Devonte Cortez Richmond, Robert Coleman Thomas, Trevon Gardner, Joseph Chambers

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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