Lyrics: Roger Ramos
Music: Roger Ramos
I go hard in the paint like I'm Bob Ross
You run your jaw while I'm busy gettin' topped off
That's your broad? I ain't sorry, that ain't my fault
Out the car, come and scrape her off the sidewalk
I'm a boss, see the boy about to pop off
Listen, dawg, you ain't f*ckin' with me, my God
I've been plottin' since a youngin' had an iPod
So I'ma come and f*ck the game with the lights on
Laid back in the ride
Seven shots down and I'm high
Chug a water before I drive
Aye, I-35 with my hand up on her thigh
Switchin' lanes in a 60, but we goin' 85
Now I don't keep my Timb's clean, boy, I wear them bitches out
I got filthy rich dreams cause we from the dirty south
Aye, never switch teams, no Kawhi up in my route
More like Kobe, get to know me, boy, that's been what I'm about
Now I've been tryin' to figure why they upset, why?
Maybe cause my number's hikin', they don't like me in my rucksack
Maybe now they hate me cause I'm up next
Aye, lately all my ex-bitches steady beggin' for my love back
Nah, bitch, leave me alone,
I don't got time for you leave a message at the tone
Why you trippin'? What you want?
I been movin' round the globe, while you starvin' in the tone
See, they told me stick to drawing, now they know
I go hard in the paint like I'm Bob Ross
You run your jaw while I'm busy gettin' topped off
That's your broad? I ain't sorry, that ain't my fault
Out the car, come and scrape her off the sidewalk
I'm a boss, see the boy about to pop off
Listen, dawg, you ain't f*ckin' with me, my God
I've been plottin' since a youngin' had an iPod
So I'ma come and f*ck the game with the lights on
Lights on, they hot when I get to steppin' in this bitch
Ice on the watch, so pythons awatch
Cause I'm on, they not, no wonder why they wanna switch
I cause your block to stop f*ckin' with you, bitch
All black, drippin', lookin' like I'm Batman
Gawk that dick up, make it sound like Mrs. Pac-Man
Call back a label? I need a million dollar- f*ck!
Bitch, I need a million dollar advance
You the kid in school with a suitcase and wears a blazer
I been runnin' shit in my city, I been the mayor
Deep up in the cut and I'm drippin', look like a razor
And if I take your bitch, why you mad? I did you a favor
Bars, yeah, the boy stay equipped mane
You run your jaw while your money runnin' this way
I don't give a f*ck bout what any dirty bitch say
I'ma trip abroad like my foot is in a stupid bitch way
I go hard in the paint like I'm Bob Ross
You run your jaw while I'm busy gettin' topped off
That's your broad? I ain't sorry, that ain't my fault
Out the car, come and scrape her off the sidewalk
I'm a boss, see the boy about to pop off
Listen, dawg, you ain't f*ckin' with me, my God
I've been plottin' since a youngin' had an iPod
So I'ma come and f*ck the game with the lights on