Espn (feat. RTB MB & GMB TR)

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Almighty doug

2:55

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AJ, you iced up
Yeah, RTB, nigga
Come on
Stephen A., I got my Smith' with me
Threw a opp off the glass to my mans, we finna get litty
In New York, boy, I prolly got your bitch with me
If you ain't up a couple hunnid, nigga, you can't sit with me
She want some cheese, I have nothing
She want some cheese, I have nothing
Everytime she climax, girl, you know I'm tryna hit
Gilbert Arenas, I'm in the locker room, a blick with me
Like I'm always playin' 2K with the Heat, yeah, I keep a stick with me
Told her that I love her 'cause she down to hit a lick with me
Oh, I forgot they want sports-bars
I feel like Dame or James when I step back
Disrespectful at a Yankees game with a Mets hat
Feel like D Rose, I overcame every set back
40 Hit him, all angles, over-under, nigga, bet that
They finna bring the nets back
They tried to get me out the game, DeMarcus Cousins how I crept back
Spin the block with Techs, you be chillin' where the refs at
She like "Boy, you tryna f*ck", I'm like "Oh, you guessed that"
Feel like Biggie, I hit a nigga
Feel like Biggie, I hit a nigga girl where slep at
Damn, I mean where he sleep at
Out in Kansas City juggin' stores, nigga, where the chief's at?
Feel like Bobby Portis, nigga
Feel like Bobby Portis, if you try me I knock your teeth back
Nigga, stop playin', nigga
Yeah, rest in peace V. Roy
If you report 'em we gon' trail, then blaze your whip, call me B. Roy
Thought I had a Glock, I got a Drac', that's a decoy
My niggas countin' pape' till they sore, we don't sleep, boy
Said you had a G Wagon, I saw you in a Jeep, boy
You can't even look inside my whip, it make the "Eeh" noise
I'ma shoot my shot from the trey if I see Coi
You ain't got no bitches at the party, we gon' leave boy
We out, nigga, come on
RTB, nigga
The bitch can't wait to cook for me, she made me rice but I ain't Jerry
I'm finna bitch, not Larry
I ain't Jeffrey either
And I'm way better than my pops and had a 99 overall so on my phone she J.J. Watt
And Moses always got the drops so I'ma place 'em in that slot
Tryna spark up in the locker room, Who you smokin'? This the one
I'm on the road with, we don't spill sauce, we just run shit
I'm tryna think 'bout who the f*ck plays sports
I know a youngin', he don't know no better
Judge seen 'em, she was 6, she said "You know that this your last chance"
Walked out and did the Ray Lewis dance
Shit, I can show you the racks, I don't play tennis but it's in my chain
The boy don't do nun' in the 4th and copped a 8th after the damn game
I swear he lame as f*ck
And switched the sneaks, oh, he P.J. Tuck'
I'm makin' money in the air, come get
And hella P's hit the block, we call that Warren Sapp
And I ain't Warren G
I be with big B's way more than Papi Ortiz
The only takes that we shoot far from off the streets
8 For the purple
It was sweet so I bought some more, nigga, 8 for the purple
With a ruler, I'm out in Baltimore
I told "Go and make ESPN"
In Kentucky, hell nah, I ain't with BBN
Ayy, and rest in peace Pop Smoke
We dodgin' out in LA they my favorite locs, yeah
And I don't really mess with 2K, only thing in common
I'm in the league and I got 2 K's
Come on
Ayy, I'm just tryna make ESPN, man
GMB, MB, what' up?
Midwest

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