OG Bobby Johnson (Remix) (feat. Snoop Dogg, A$AP Ferg & Pusha T)
[Hook: Que] Word on the street I'm a suspect Hangin' with the killers in the projects Potato on the barrel keep quiet Catch a nigga slippin' from behind O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson!
[Verse 1: Que] I'm still hanging with them killers and them convicts Push start, no key, don't need a locksmith Pop shit, split your top lift Chop sticks, still knock a nigga right up out his rocksmith O.G. Bobby Johnson - catch a nigga slipping while he joggin' Tater on the end of the Ruger Bottom of the stick hangin' out there; Mr. Cooper Word on the street, your son, he's a thief Your partner got him stealing radios every week Told you once jealousy, that's a bitch nigga trait Better keep the grass cut, so you can watch out for the snakes
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Snoop Dogg] Jumped out of bed with a bitch Right hand on my heat, left hand on my dick Sea salt, he robbed than a motherfucker OG Bobby Johnson? Nah, nigga, never love him OG LB City is the town Run up, get gunned down Nigga, we don't fuck around Ask Ray-Ray, Jay-Jay and Kay-Kay Shot a nigga in the daytime with the AK Nigga ain't even on the run, get loose Turn stick, quick tip, bang mine with the deuce, what it do? All my niggas is realer But Bobby Johnson is a bonafide killer Mama was a ho, step-daddy was a dealer Yellow brick motherfucking Pittsburgh Steeler Nigga? nigga, better raise up Dip my stick, nigga, when I blaze up A's up, K's up I'm from the dub where the homies say trey's up I am cripping with the niggas in the projects Goin' down where the homie sell the bomb at And don't get caught out of bounds We get touchdown, shut down, nigga get cut down Real game, kill game Bobby Johnson, that's my motherfucking real name, deuce
[Hook]
[Verse 3: A$AP.Ferg] Just got off a call with the homie Gino That's my manager, he be really boosting my ego (hello) Said "you crack, nigga, and every line is a kilo"' I said "stop playing, stop drinking the Clicquot" Stay out them bars, nigga But really I could kill them with these bars, nigga Really give them stars, nigga I chips on the tooth like Nas, nigga Make me spit cold verses too, all these odd niggas But 50 my favorite rapper, he got shot 8 bullets like Leroy and then he got hot I feel bad, I met 'Premo before he got knocked Cop 4 jackets right out of my pop spot That Ferg apparel, this life will lay down Cee-Lo with grown ups stacking a Burrough I can talk about my life, but that ain't the hour Rather Shabba Ranks with a skank and skeet in her mouth My daddy in heaven, I try to keep him smilin' And take his little brother out to eat Italian That's my big uncle T Ferg, used to be wildin' But now he getting rapper money, he should be proud of him I got a thing for dark skin and big booties Just got into model girls, some slim cuties I'll fuck ya industry bitches, say I did it Piece of pie, but industry bitches really with it Sha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks Trying to hop a model chick, probably Tyra Banks Put the potato on the hammer, let it bang Cause I'm OG Bobby Johnson, A$AP Mob be the gang
[Hook]
[Verse 4: Pusha T] OG like it's South Central Nigga had a brick in a rental Since I ain't dead or in jail from it Put my life in this instrumental (OG Bobby Johnson) like I'm straight out of Compton See my boys in the hood, we a menace, it's a problem Nigga only know about a kilogram Old school, I could just kill a man Kids running up to my old school Get a hundred dollars from the dealer man I ain't gotta lie in my music Give you game, teach you how to use it If he ain't trying to help you come up Leave his bro