Lyrics:
Girl why you frontin' like you don't want to come over here
You know you want some of this Bobby T (ha)
You know you want some of this
No, it's not
words
I got killers comin' home
All that time that they done served
Homeboy cappin' like he him, shit
But that's not what I heard
Every time I sleep,
Holes wit' tampons, i'm serious
I've been plugged in like a landline
And I throw up my hands you
Just throwin' up hand signs
When the hand 9 by the Jimmy
the microphone
When I met Joan, I took her home
She was just like a doggy all on my bone
I met another girl, her name was Ann
All she wanted was to freak with
die tonight
Got a lot on my mind, you know that I'm high tonight
I left that black Hublot at home
So really I don't got the time
My nigga got by
look, girl
I think you all are gathered here thinkin' (get it, I'm comin' with it)
And get on home (morning noon into night)
'Cause this man right here
way, that stinky ho know that I'll have her inside my home
Even though my girl don't like you, bitch
If I fuck with you, that's the time I'm on
My
even mentioned by all these fuckin' beginners?
I'm so appalled, I might buy the mall
Just to show niggas how much more I have in store
I'm fresher
they call the Master Gee
Well, my name is known all over the world
By all the foxy ladies and the pretty girls
I'm goin' down in history
Love Jones, I got a Love Jones
I got a Love Jones.. for you
(repeat 2X)
[Bobby Digital]
Yo girl you shinin like a brand new spankin
tell so well
I met this girl, her name was Joan
She loved the way I rocked the ON microphone
When I met Joan, I took her home
She was just like
tell so well
I met this girl, her name was Joan
She loved the way I rocked the ON microphone
When I met Joan, I took her home
She was just like
to charge to get him off in time
The girls are searching CPR online
When Bobby comes to laughing
Like asphyxiation never crossed his mind
And Cal is leaving
Leave my sweat on stone tables after gym class
Cornhole skills by the end I could teach a master class
Locker room steals so everyone locked up their bags
pocket
To buy the world
I take trips overseas
Bring home the finest girls
I’m sitting pretty
Bet you wish you could fill my shoes
I only do what a player
Yeah
I feel Bobby Boucher in a Tesla
Heard she got the water boy, ou I'm a fetch some
Baby I don't kiss and tell, that shit for jezebels
Ain't no shame
of that old Coupe De Ville
Those shoes were just too big to fill that year
A song on Bobby Bare would take you anywhere
If I'm still here it wasn't for
me
Cocked mouthed and thirsty gotta keep my spirit lifted though
My spiritual, lyrical, it's hydromyrical
I'm comin' vicious though, wit a fully
I'm ready sounds nice like this
Swing Low hey Hey
Yo yo
Swing Low sweet chariot
Comin' to carry me home
Carry me home Carry me home
Swing Low sweet
a nigga talking down on the gang
Imma fill them with hallow tips
I put my blood sweat and tears into this shit
But I'm still posted with Crips
Posted up by
to drop, stop
You ain't know I'm nice girl, you'se a 'Wannabe'
Like the Spice Girls, you betta think twice, girl
I'm untryable, undeniable
Won't be held
on your own
Ain't nobody fuckin' with me, you can tell by the tone
Gotta lotta women waitin' by they phone all alone
But I'm here for ya
When I get
worry baby)
Meet me at the southside
Get you home by midnight
Make sure that your daddy just don't know (daddy just don't know)
I'll put you in
(do you want more?)
Hell yeah, now check the method
I been livin' outside of pages for ages
Now I'm back, Chocolate City, home of percussion,
.jpg/220px-Take_Me_Home_(PC).jpg "if u take me home.")
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