Robb Bank$ - Refined | Текст песни

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• Robb Bank$
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[Verse 1: Robb Bank$]
Baller blockin', chicks flapping they wings in the cockpit
I'd move them chickens to yo coop, but these crackers cock-blockin'
I'm chirpin', my niggas barkin' in St. Arthur, same Volvo
The way my bitch hair layered, might try 'er out for the dog show
Let my facial hair grow, on hiatus to the five star
That's where my bitch be living, she Based God in the kitchen
She want me to eat better, but I barely touched the plate
On vacay with my main, ain't even left were I stay
I'm South Florida foreva, I'm yellow xans foreva
And if them folks drop the charges, we can be together forever
Touch slow, fuck fast, money in my waistband
Feel my manicured hands, my accountant from the concentration camp
S.S., fo' months 'til we muhfuckin dead
I'm Babidi, you Majin Vegeta, I'll put some 'M's on yo head
Blowin' tobacco by the water, I don't even like the beach
With fuckin' sand covering our bodies, I feel like muhfucking Gaara (Lil' bitch)
And that ass like her Ferrari, you a stallion, hop up on that shit
Gallop, centaur
Girlfriend, it's horsepower
Made a net-worth off the jugg house in Savage ask him what he 'bout
Me, Montana and Kev, we just in yo hood, ridin' round
Black & Mild lace, so I take it to the face
All A.A laced, I'll sweat the lace front off of Azelia Banks
(Mm-mmm) Gimme kiss show KDia what she been missin'
When it's me, Juice and Purrp I'm fuckin' ten mo' women
Tryna eat, like you feedin' tube ass nigga
You stabbed yo' best friend in the back?
That's the Mangekyō in you nigga
I got the Chi-Chi from amigo
Shed moonlight to Son-Goku
And with all this Cell Camo, boy I feel like Nigo
Now bae, no games
I'm rich according to the gas tank
I thought I told you fuck niggas "We only breathe octane."
Pussy nigga, stop playing I got goons for these type of thangs
Lost yo' money and yo' bitch all when Basquiat came
(Lil bitch)

[Hook 8x]
I'm finer than yo' bitch, hah
And suck my fuckin' dick, boy

[Verse 2: Robb Bank$]
I say, "Ask 'em what he 'bout."
These fashion thugs'll never wear me out
You ain't live, I fashioned myself as the best rapper alive
It's the Savage, reincarnate
Swordfish, South Florida
Savage Life
Wish a ho nigga would cross that border
And I'm back puffin' on canna-b, you know "a year" mean a week
Sesshōmaru pussy, I did it all single-handedly
Look at the time, a nigga got famous over night
Laughing at 'cho Robitussin lean, as I sippeth my Sprite
Fuck niggas on my mind? I got one-two many
So I turn to Disney Channel and think of what I’d do to Demi
And boy shoutout to my Raiders
Nigga, Purrp and Simmie
And I'll sweat the fuck out yo' weave, bitch but only if it's Remy
I need a, project bitch, with a, eighteen-inch sew-in
That I can pull when I give her this infinite
Shit, count that in inches
Put a fo' in that lemon-lime, or a six
And add about two mo' of them shits, lil bitch
Robb Bank$, Illuminati
And I’m loadin' up Kamehameha Waves in the clip of my K
Triple-six, I’m atheist
You thinking “What did he just say?"
Good
Tryna remove all you dumb niggas from my fuckin' fan-base
Bitch, I walk around North Lauderdale, like "Fuck err'body!"
Added my lil twist, but ain't no age on this money
Boi you fuck around with them folks, that's how Haze got his ass smoked
And what the fuck you pussy ass niggas know 'bout bein' broke?!
I can't relate, I'm trying to get more in touch with my fan base
Cause I know a lot of these poor jits is saying, "Robb Bank$ is just scrait"
"Come again?"
What I tell my Spanish lady when she speak that Da

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