jason williams - rtb mb lyrics
jason williams lyrics
[intro: rtb mb]
yeah
rtb sh*t
(j, this sh*t too crazy)
too crazy
[chorus: rtb mb]
grab some water guns, b*tches runnin’ out the crib (yeah)
it’s sunday in the yams, b*tch, you know we up at liv (yeah)
gotta have that fire on me, know i got the kids (got to)
pass it to the gang, cp3 with the assist (with the, yeah)
call rell stojaković, you know he can’t miss (can’t miss)
thirty on the rollie, so you i came wrist (came wrist)
i just up racks and i never change sh*t (yeah)
1:30 in the morning, at the stu’ makin’ hits (makin’ hits, n*gga, on god)
[verse 1: rtb mb]
what y’all n*ggas on?
how he pop your mans, now y’all dumb ass get along? (what?)
i just hit her phone
hit your b*tch, then i send her home (huh?)
top me in the whip, this b*tch a trip, i’m gettin’ sprinter dome (okay)
yeah, i ain’t new to this
she screenshot the dm, i think i’m finna sue this b*tch (for real)
f*ck them letters, n, b, and the a, they call me ludacris (call me, yeah)
i ain’t have my lil’ n*gga on no stupid sh*t (at all)
huh, f*ck i look like?
i can’t even be around a b*tch if she can’t cook right (she can’t, yeah)
wake up, hit her from the side if she look nice (huh?)
beat his ass for parking in my spot, they call me suge knight (on some real sh*t)
told him grab the uzi, it’s a doozy, you get no kite (huh?)
crack open a seal and throw it out ’cause it don’t look right (real)
yeah, flint n*gga chasin’ millions (okay)
my n*gga throw a fifty*five, call him jason williams (hey)
[verse 2: nuk]
told bro i’m cool on these n*ggas, let unky smoke his ‘ports
i was probably school for you when you jumped off the porch
walkin’ in with all these paid lawyers, we ain’t missin’ court
h*ll yeah, i’ll throw him fifty*five, but i ain’t e’twaun moore
told bro it’s a couple miles, but it’s an easy state
h*ll yeah, i’m jumpin’ on that bridge, because it’s easy pape’
b*tch, i really ball, i might try out for the league today
told miles like, “boy, we really stars, so we don’t need the wraith”
i’m a dog, b*tch, don’t try to take me to your daddy home
i’m just tryna see that super*soaker in your pantyhose
little boy, don’t tell me when it’s green, ’cause we already on
can put you on, but you ain’t sellin’ this
i can have it cooked in twenty minutes, call that reddi*wip
my lil’ b*tch don’t like it when i’m high like, “why you sippin’ this?”
i gave up ball just to sell a ball, guess i’m a hypocrite
it’s like i was a nascar driver, ’cause i ain’t miss the pit
[chorus: rtb mb]
grab some water guns, b*tches runnin’ out the crib (yeah)
it’s sunday in the yams, b*tch, you know we up at liv (yeah)
gotta have that fire on me, know i got the kids (got to)
pass it to the gang, cp3 with the assist (with the, yeah)
call rell stojaković, you know he can’t miss (can’t miss)
thirty on the rollie, so you i came wrist (came wrist)
i just up racks and i never change sh*t (yeah)
1:30 in the morning, at the stu’ makin’ hits (makin’ hits, n*gga)
[verse 3: lil mello]
i told stain we outside (huh?), we f*cked up thirty durin’ this quarantine (bands)
when your brother died, y’all hit the morgue, i was pourin’ lean (sippin’ drank)
daddy was a k!ller and a hustler, it run in my genes (i’m my daddy’s son)
on my mama, i was eight years old seein’ blazin’ fiends (on my mama, n*gga)
b*tch, they know 700 cutthroat (700)
i get you boxed in, like corbin bleu, you need your jumprope (b*tch)
we keep k!llin’ all they mans, i know them b*tches ain’t got no hope (they ain’t sl!ck)
i go up top and do the murder dance, they hate it when i showboat (d*mn)
talkin’ about plugs, we got racks for that, n*gga, check the stats for that
you talkin’ bodies, i can show you somethin’, we got hacks for that (boy)
i put you on the ropes, then flip your body like an acrobat
hit arizona for that, shot back to the d and brought a diamond back (d*mn)
i’m a dog out the cage, they want me back, can’t send me to the kennel (yeah, yeah)
lil’ boy, that ain’t your bag, that’s the plugs, you malcolm in the middle (lil’ boy)
heavy pressin’ with the x, we tryna send a monkey to the ‘spital (to the ‘spital)
that drac’ got some kick, but i love it when i hear it riddle (brrt, bah, bah)
[outro: lil mello]
that drac’ got some kick, but i love it when i hear it riddle
b*tch, yeah, dumb*ass n*gga
what up, miles? we on that (trust me)
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