Testo HBK - Robb Bank$
Testo della canzone HBK (Robb Bank$), tratta dall'album FALCONIA
Uh
Uh, uh (What?)
Uh, uh
Rich
She call me boy-toy (Yuh)
Made your bitch pop that pussy off her Android (Yuh)
Got a lick, yeah, she ready for a bath, boy (Yuh, yuh)
Championship ring you know I'm petty like a tabloid
I'm coming for you, you telling them stories about the bird, boy (Ah-ahhh)
I'm flyin, baby, I'm in and I'm on Zodd, boy (Ya dig)
Thick bitch, money making on the fight, boy
They ain't got no guts, I don't give no fucks, Femto don't lie, boy (Huh)
I sacrifice, I cut them ties, she say I'm cute, boy (Yuh, yuh, yuh)
Know I'm sexy (Yuh, yuh)
As a yout, yout (Yuh), sold a midget (Ya dig)
I'm in the coupe, coupe (Raaaah), 30 bitches (Raaaah, raaaah)
Diamonds Froot Loops, serve ya breakfast (Yuh, yuh, ya dig)
I'mma run them racks up, no RiRi
And I'm in the bando, with a fefe (Yuh, yuh)
And she got a lil dog, named Kishi (Yuh, yuh)
On a Xan, love to bawl, when I squeeze it (Yuh, yuh)
That ain't fit in stomach, though (Yuh)
Stick it in your other hole (Yuh)
I'mma hump your camel toe
While I'm watching Naruto (Raaaah)
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (Ya dig, ya dig, ya dig, ya dig)
Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa (Dig, dig, dig, dig)
Yeah, let her breathe, let dat bitch breathe (Whoa, whoa, whoa)
Uh, let's get it (Let's go)
Told her I'm a heartbreak, I'm a heartbreaker (Facts)
Told her I'm a heartbreak, I'm a heartbreaker (Facts)
What color your heart, bae? I want all flavors (Facts, on God)
I do not wear no cape (On God, on God), I cannot save you (Facts)
Suck it till your jaws ache, let the taste savor (Ya dig)
Put you in a new Wraith, and that bitch paid for (Raaaah, raaaah)
And I got that work, bae, give you hard labor
Bitch said that I'm sexy, I said I'm a heartbreaker
(Doe Beezy)
I can't love no thotty, baby, I'm a heartbreaker (No no, no no)
Flexing with them racks, baby, I'm a ball player (Freebandz)
I'mma paint her face, I fuck up a bitch makeup (Woo)
Better not trust Doe Beezy, nigga, I'm a brick taker (Doe Beezy)
Pull up with a 40, with a 50 drum on it (Grrt, buh)
I got all this flavor, baby, put your tongue on it (Mwah)
You only gangster on the internet or in the studio (Pussy)
Talkin' tough on WiFi, yeah, that's gonna cause a funeral (Oh, really)
Can't be number 1 for me, cause I got a few though
I got foreign thots smashed in a fucking two-door
Young nigga don't trap, nigga, all he know is take (Grr)
See him flexing with the racks, we gon' rob him for his bank (aye, Doe Beezy)
Credits
Writer(s): Matthew Sainvil, Mike Hector, Morgan O'connor, Nicholas Guinan, William Keating
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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