M.O.B - Nuthin 2 Me

Golden child
Mob Gang
The gas I be smoking polluting the lobby
They won't give a job, I might go back to robbing
My whole life, I been serving niggas exotic
My pocket got cottage cheese
Natural bitch, she don't do that weave
I handle my shit in the streets
And them niggas ain't fucking with me
Spending money that's nothing to me
Told my homie, lets run up them Gs
Put that shit on some jewelry and freeze
Catch a case, you not coming with me
In the field, they not running with me
Stacking up green like some celery
I can't hang out wit folks who don't better me
Booted on some motherfucking ecstasy
With a freak in the bed, trying to wrestle me
Suck my dick while another bitch texting me
I'm a dog, who the fuck want some pedigree
Ain't no ruler you got, that can measure me
Dukie to fly, that shit look like a jet to me
Dasani water, that pussy feel wet to me
Give me brain, baby girl come and lecture me
The relationship we got is sexually
Pin her down to ground, need a referee
I talk numbers but shawdy gone F with me
And the ganstas around me respectfully
I rock them Nikes but nobody checking me
Dropping these hits, got these bitches getting next to me
I was taking them trips, trying to load up them packs
Made it to Arizona but didn't make it back
We got locked up in Texas, my iPhone was tapped
I be real with this shit I can't come with no cap
Kicking in doors, when I didn't have a strap
Running off on the plug we finessing his sack
Paranoid, too alert, you will not see me lack
I just walked in the hotel went straight to the back
The gas I be smoking polluting the lobby
They won't give a job, I might go back to robbing
My whole life, I been serving niggas exotic
My pocket got cottage cheese
Natural bitch, she don't do that weave
I handle my shit in the streets
And them niggas ain't fucking with me
Spending money, that's nothing to me
Told my homie, lets run up them Gs
Put that shit on some jewelry and freeze
Catch a case, you not coming with me
In the field, they not running with me
Dukie hell yeah, let's run up them Gs
But none of them Gs is free, the fuck you mean
Cuban links, diamond dancing like Billie Jean
Sorry I added your little bitch to the team
Boy I need to cut down on this fucking lean
I won't settle for less, this shit here my dream
Pockets mozzarella, velveeta cheese
Still serving exotic like what you need
You want green wockhardt or you want some weed
Natural bitch, she don't got to wear weave
Swear this dick only thing she receive
I ain't want her no more, told her leave
Still dog her like golden retriever
Sipping syrup like it's Griffith, no Peter
Tyler Hero, I keep me a heater
Level up in this bitch like I'm freezer, dragon ball
We can't keep popping pills, they gone kill us all
You ain't did it before, don't you get involved
I can't serve that little boy, I think he the laws
If I go back to robbing, that's all of y'all
Guarantee your little problem is gone get solved
I keep copping this Polo right from the mall
If they say that it's smoke, I'm a make a call
The gas I be smoking polluting the lobby
They won't give a job, I might go back to robbing
My whole life, I been serving niggas exotic
My pocket got cottage cheese
Natural bitch, she don't do that weave
I handle my shit in the streets
And them niggas ain't fucking with me
Spending money, that's nothing to me
Told my homie, lets run up them Gs
Put that shit on some jewelry and freeze
Catch a case, you not coming with me
In the field, they not running with me

Written by:
Javarius Brantley, Jordan Lewis

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, O/B/O DistroKid

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