TBB Cole & Lowkey 83 - Rubberbands

These rubberbands steady popping Pockets be full of knots
Big 45 be making shit drop
These rubberbands steady popping my pockets be fulla knots
Post up on da block slanging rock had to hide that dope in my sock
Keep one in da head always cock
Big 45 be making shit drop
Ain't beefing wit pussy niggas
it go down they run call da cops
Keep the shit in da streets don't cooperate wit them folks
It's a drought on some dope I run out then I'm serving soap
Constantly Swang my door you play with yo nose I got coke
Cook it up work my wrist till it lock with the baking soda
Kick down the door I'm taking over
Make a move look strange and I'm blowing
Residue on the glass The traphouse got a strong Oder
Mix wock & tris in a soda (Damn)
Shit got me Leanin over
Backwoods stuffed wit exotic drugs in me I'm never sober
AR scope hit from far throw some hollows he going long
Collect call sitting down in that cell act like they can't pick up the phone
Sit back & be thinking they prolly love me more when I'm gone
That's just how I be feeling speak from my heart on these songs
Now let's get back to da Bidness
Can't talk on da phone feds listen
Ain't gone tell on myself I slide solo on every mission
Actin tough roun them niggas can't stand on yo own 10
Let off 25 shots Got me feeling like Ben Simmons
These rubberbands steady popping my pockets be fulla knots
Post up on da block slanging rock had to hide that dope in my sock
Keep one in da head always cock
Big 45 be making shit drop
Ain't beefing wit pussy niggas
it go down they run call da cops
Keep the shit in da streets don't cooperate wit them folks
It's a drought on some dope I run out then I'm serving soap
Constantly Swang my door you play with yo nose I got coke
Cook it up work my wrist till it lock with the baking soda
Nah we can't fuck wit 12 (we can't)
I make these moves can't leave no clues trynna stay out da cell
If I can get rich off talking my shit the shid I might as well
Fo I let myself go down get off my ass n make dese sales
I won't never switch up on my dawg that shit be lame as hell (Yea yea)
Gotta know I came for da win (Gotta know I came for da win)
Fuckin' around wit the other side gon get uh fucked off in the end
N that's on me I done seen it w my eyes
Thought they had mob ties but that shit was all lies (All lies)
We was in trenches each and errday
Seeing what it was and what it had to take
Saying I had to get out had to make a way
Putting them pads on yea I tried to make some plays
Folks say I'm trippin but I'm tryin to get paid
They don't know I want this shit bad imma do what it take
My patience been bad but I'm learning to wait
It's hard not to stress that's why I take exotic to the face
Man I feel dis shit I swear it's right here (Swear it's right here)
We takin off I'm talking light year
Yea I got these bands by my side
I swear they neva lied
All that faking ain't worth yo pride
Just stay down until
These rubberbands steady popping my pockets be fulla knots
Post up on da block slanging rock had to hide that dope in my sock
Keep one in da head always cock
Big 45 be making shit drop
Ain't beefing wit pussy niggas
It go down they run call da cops
Keep the shit in da streets don't cooperate with them folks
It's a drought on some dope I run out then I'm serving soap
Constantly Swang my door you play with yo nose I got coke
Cook it up work my wrist till it lock with the baking soda

Written by:
Earl Gresham, Jonathan Cole

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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