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back to back - daboii lyrics

[intro: fmb dz]
yeah, top shotter, and dondada, dboii what up?
boy, you ain’t no motherf*ckin’ boss
you ain’t the n*gga wit’ the juice, you ain’t the n*gga wit’ the sauce

[verse: daboii & fmb dz]
park a whip up over here i think them n*ggas lost
soon as they declare it’s on them n*ggas getting offed

bape jacket on cost a couple thousand
we pull up with big sh*t that blow up houses
these lil’ n*ggas don’t want no static
riding ’round with the boogie man in the 4matic

too many seeds up in one blunt, boy who you copped it from?
and don’t you ask me what this go for, you don’t got the funds
boy be careful who you mugging, i am not the one
rich n*gga, hit the mall and i shop for fun

weird b*tch out the way i think she gothic
all she do is run through the beans and bring me profit
yeah fmb, yeah sob them my patnas
yeah make the call huh we gon’ pull up with them choppas

fmb dz that’s my rasta
guapanese, what my jeans hold a lot of
thirty clip, in our glocks put the stocks up
n*gga get your blunt up out my face, i will not puff

i got a f&n, blue tips with the flashlight
got my cash right, i just handled three from last night
yeah i got four b*tches in the coupe they all bad
i know some old n*ggas from my hood they all mad

and don’t put your trust up in me you will get back door
if that b*tch give me a wink i’m leaving her back broke
i know some b*tches that be jokes but b*tch you a bad joke
and n*gga ain’t sh*t funny, the f*ck did you laugh for?

i put that pistol to your head you f*ck with little brodie
my mama keep me in her prayers ’cause them demons on me

n*gga get up out my face ’cause you don’t even know me
i keep money, can’t keep b*tches but i keep a .40

umm i can’t keep a b*tch to save my life
shout out to the plug, he lowered the price
b*tch i make a bag in every state i land in
this a quarter million dollar car that i’m playing in

we the reason why the other side be staying in
hudson jeans what i’m wearing, these ain’t h&m’s
and i’m just dropping off d*ck, heard you ate the b*tch
and yeah that sh*t sound good and all but i ain’t convinced

cell phone slapping, house got a lot a traps
you a rapper, i’m a trapper bust a brick without the wrapper
got some n*ggas that’s gon’ pull up, let some shots off for me
got 7.62’s that’ll go through a tree

first thing on my mind, get in the booth
i got the juice, bishop and q
why i wanna f*ck? b*tch ’cause you cute
why i can’t hold my tongue? b*tch ’cause i’m rude
everybody claim they real somebody gotta be faking
all them obstacles i dodged, somebody gotta be praying
why everybody wanna rush? somebody gotta be patient
too much fake love in the air somebody gotta be hating
i done took risks you would never take
no discipline up in your gang, it’s time to regulate
cash in my pick, b*tch come get on me with the devil face
puff a cloud up out this blunt then you gon’ levitate

- daboii lyrics

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