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bangout freestyle (perc 10mg) - robb bank$ lyrics

[verse]
hold on—hold on b*tch, yeah, my d*ck itching
makes sense, i done gave it raw to 6 b*tches
old dirty b*st*rd, 100 racks past ya, promethazine pastor
you pray and bow after
i cut ya drank in the past, that’s the old me
3 fiends hit my line up for the codeine
z*quil & lean— it come from me, it’s all the same thing
r3ally, how i sip dirty sprite outta canteen
i like to give d*ck to b*tches, and then let em praise me
i like to give liq to b*tches that miss they aa meetings
i’m the future, past, present, b*tch go get a palm reading
don’t givе a f*ck if mercury in retrograde, gеt out yo d*mn feelings
dope dealing
cap peeling
top gunning, top filling..
no roofs, no ceilings
all macy’s, no dillard’s
no resorts, all villas
no p*ssies, all k!llas
no good girls, all bad b*tches, ready & willing
no fitted cap hoes, i need snapback p*ssy, b*tch
they like “come on girl, you know err’body doin’ it”
i’ll f*ck you & the b*tch you sell p*ssy with
yeah, squeeze baccarat on me, i let her choke on it
yeah, b*tch throat sore, i should f*ck around and put her out
yeah, she asked for some drank i just put my d*ck in her mouth
i be so bored, i just wanna put some music out
but before i drop the album, i’ll f*ck around and wife a thot
yeah she ride the mic, i been rocked the show
chris benoit the p*ssy, i cross*face the hoe
i’ll drop one of these n*ggas, i’d drop one of these hoes
but i can’t drop no album, no, no, no, no, no
uh, 2021, maybach truckload
uh, hit the hydraulics like i’m in the west coast
uh, sold hydroponics and i done sold blow
i had a fiend named john that i used to sell snow
yeah she playing with my crown, tryna win the game of thrones
need a full targaryen that i can ride on
i’m the dragon, i’m the beast, i’m the monster, i’m the god
i’m that feeling in your chest when you know that something wrong
yeah, p*ssy ass hoe take my phone like she own it
but she know that she can’t take no d*ck, that’s why she keep running
she playing track star, had to call and tell ya something
still put that d*ck up in her jaw, and she said she loved it
why you trying to keep up with me baby? you know i’m thugging
took that whole perc 30, now ya ass throwing up
gotta spiritual lil b*tch, put crystals on the money
give her ass hard d*ck and a whole lotta nothing
oh you funny? i’m hilarious
in dubai with the harrisons
look around like where the carriage at?
shot his ass— boy whatchu staring at?!
you don’t ever go against the family? b*tch, i ain’t hearing that
i think out loud, they cheerin’ that
i see my man, i’m airin’ that
you know that p*ssy ain’t sh*t, b*tch, better cut it out
‘fore i book you at the 4:30 house & mud it out
i wear a gun on each hip, b*tch, i’m tryna shoot it out
and i load each clip, issa imovie now
i won’t kiss you in ya mouth, but i grab you by ya hair
what i look like? you got food in them big ass veneers
when i pull up in that aston, know they stop and they stare
i got every opp b*tch mad, pulling out they hair
yeah
[outro]
yeah shut the f*ck up, b*tch, ‘fore i have my new hoe beat yo’ ass

- robb bank lyrics

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