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coming soon - black bobby lyrics

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[intro]
d-m-v, coming soon!
m-i-a, we coming soon!
square biz, coming soon!
and black bob coming soon!

[verse]
what i’m gone spit here is amazing
and every girl i meet in the club- blazing
she half black. uh, maybe half asian
would you mind on this occasion if i call you blasian!?
and, i ain’t really patient
living my dreams. i’m about to catch the nation
they sleep. we grind. i be on my grind mode
climbing all the time. the top is on my mind, jo
i don’t slow down for my haters
they giving me steam. they doing me favors
every time i catch a little hate up in the papers
i write a hit that’s bound to wake the neighbors
hear the b-ss go, hear the beat kick
went to harvard, but i am on my street sh-t
so elite kid when i write a rhyme down
i go dumb, baby. i be out my mind now

[hook]
all the bad jonts, all the bad chicks
hit the floor, baby. show me all your magic
and, when i walk in with a bomb thing
everybody know i’m coming soon like lebron’s ring
and, i’m rollin w/ a prom queen
we hooking up, i ain’t talking don king
when i walk in with a bomb thing
everybody know i’m coming soon like lebron’s ring

[verse]
all the bad jonts, all the bad chicks
hit the floor baby, show them boys your magic
i’m in the bar pop-popping with a shorty, jo
my game mean kinda large like a 40 o[z]
kicking like the world cup. cousin, cuff you girl up
i ain’t going to take it but i sure looked at the girl’s b-tt
so disrespectful, messing with this red bull
ya’ll could get a neck full. better send my check full
i am on wings. i’m flying up the charts now
bobby sense is tingling. i’m talking peter park now
oh, i shut the park down. they banned my crossover
i guess major blazer had them bammas sauced over
my ability. you haters is k!lling me
funny style youngans, stop looking and grilling me
i am black bobby. the one that j dilla chose
ya’ll looking sloppy wearing j dilla clothes

[hook]

[verse]
fire in the hole! i’m coming for u bammas
they all amateurs and they posing for the camera
i am such a vet, i got the game sick
i’m talking bron james, i ain’t talking mike vick
a three-headed heat-peat. ya’ll see defeat, b
now you on one knee asking for sympathy
you will get no empathy. i am your sun zu
i cut an mc head off clean in one move
eat an mc greasy. want no part of dc
live in miami. u bammas can come and see me
find me on miami ave chilling with a hipster
she got short shorts, lip gloss up on her lips, cuz
i am mike larry. spit harder than william
no ghostwriters, hip-hop sn0bs gone feel him
this is just the real him. i don’t use no real pen
and i chief harder than slim with the ill brim

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