B.O.B

Chaos

B.O.B

album:

No Genre: The Label (2015)

No Genre: The Label cover

Chaos testo

Uh, take my keys and start it
Start it

Hold up wait a minute, how you feel lil’ bitch?
You already know I’m finna kill this shit
No Genre the Label, what the deal lil’ bitch?
Playing with my money, I might kill that bitch
Imma kill that bitch, Imma euthanize
We all at the funeral with suits and ties
Imma get my check at the [?]
I mean envelope, and yes she will elope

Let me get it juh[?]
I got the lil’ niggas in the back
Put your back on my [?] and my bad bitch [?]
Firex on a tap
Man it probably will emit[?]
I get money ho
Getting honey[?] ho
You know who run it ho
Dick all in your stomach ho
You know you want it ho

Dick all in her stomach like hollatel[?]
After she give me that pussy then I got a deal
You know these hoes is hoes is hoes we got a lot of them
Ho on of this shit you see these fly all on my collar bitch
I’m just chilling with some bitches and they looking like some tits
Yes I’m from Atlanta the West side I represent
If I hop up on that [?] I can make your ass a
Bitch stop pitching me ideas and go pitch yourself a tent
Tinted windows on my whip and see that shit like 5%
Damn, can’t see

Running through a check, I fucked up my hand and now a nigga can’t count em
[?] now my rubber band, little nigga on mountain
Why the hell y’all actin hard I swear to god that these niggas ain’t bout it
They mad that my team winning and their’s isn’t so we got em all pouting
Imma tell you why they actin like that
These days everybody want an Oscar
And they not my sons, and if they are
I swear to god Imma put them in foster care
You on TV take you off the air
Imma show my ass like I ought to be here
You know I will like the autonomy clear
Won’t explain that line, need not to be clear

I’m feeling right now I could spar with a bat
Bare hands hands out I got nothing to share
Just lit up a blunt, blowing smoke in the air
Foggy windows because my friends are burning forest fires
You no like it? We say Forrest run but I think Forrest tired
Blowing stinky like that motor oil when I burn my tires
Got my foot up on the gas gas gas, plus a lighter

Gas plus a lighter
Gas plus a lighter
I just bought a pack of condoms y’all a pack of vaginas

And she fast with her ass like her past get behind her
Imma bag her Imma drag her where my *bing* like the timer

Hold up, hold up, wait
If you hater then you a mistake
No Genre The Label, my life is great
Chilling with rebels man shout out to Jake

Shout out to me?
So it’s my turn
Fuck these niggas talking bout, hold up
You ain’t talking money, then shut up
Working from the night til the sun up
Higher than my life, bail whaddup
Higher like I got the job show up
Tell the boss to suck it, Imma blow up
Snitches get stitches, get sewn up
Pass Joe a bottle, the doors go up

Eat two hoes like I’m an omnivore
Or some type of carnivore, Tyrannosaur
Sorta kinda like a connoisseur
With an Excalibur kind of sword
Bitch, all the competition we started
And we top shelf, y’all niggas Top Ramen
Look bitch, Bobby go apeshit
Came from the wild we was raised in a jungle gym
Bitch, y’all sneak like rumpelstiltskin and pajamas
Rolling presidential yeah we rolling down Obama
That’s just how we do it
In you bitch mouth like you ain’t

Ascolta Chaos - B.O.B