Lyrics:
Like what you say
We gon pull up
And we prolly rob the bank
Your niggas talking
They be smoking on that dank
I told em that ain't what it is
What you
feds
If you got two feet then yo ass gone stand
If you aim for the moon where you think you gone land
Get up off yo ass and get up out that jam, Damn!
Lil' Lay, hey (Yeah, yeah)
What's up playas (What's happenin' out there?)
Thugstas, and hustlas?
(Yeah, yeah, it's all real, yeah)
And I want
rather Hustle our way Up
How U gone Rob the Goon
This ain't no time to play
We dont do minimum wage
We rather Hustle our way Up
I move that Work by the Day
ride in my 3-4-8 mobbin
Listen to the buddha brothers
6 to 10 there ain't no other
Playin' my favorite jams
On 1-0-3 Jams
I got my man Big D, Big
Gun don’t jam it ain’t no biscuit
Bitch this
Shit is
Hotter than Sahara
'Bout a hundred dollars is what I wipe I my shit with
Oh you want the big
Cost lil money to look like dis
Cost lil money to smoke like dis
Cost lil money to drip like dis
Cost lil money to push like dis
It cost lil money
don't really give a shit about what you're saying bitch
What's your name? (Oh he's Hispanic man)
Ese Lil' Rob ready to take them to the street
Cuz I can
What's up ese
It's your homeboy
Lil' Rob
Representing my city to the fullest
San Diego, Southern California
That's where I'm from, simon
S-A-N
bitch tryna test a nigga ion do exams
Like my name Rob Van Dam, hit that lil bitch with a slam
If my brother in a jam, Imma look out for my fam
They
on the trap gotta feed his family
Bagging up packs till his fingers get sweaty
He ain’t even scared gotta get it already
He ain’t even scared of the jam he done
FEATURING: MR.SHADOW
First Verse:Lil'Rob
Str8 jackin', still warein' all blue
Killin' haters,hackin' and knockin' up bitches to
Still doing drive
She said Lil Jam oh my goodness come and get behind me
She said come and get behind me
She said Lil Jam oh my goodness come and get behind me
You
tounge out
She ain’t amazed by yo’ VV’s she tryna’ rob em
Foreign shorties on the G
Like they came wit’ the fit
These n****s stalling on the P
Lil Timmy
Ain't nobody in the room high as me
All by myself but I'm seeing 3's
All em' say you wanna be like me
Michael Jordan Jackson Tyson
All em' say you wanna
on the backstreet shooter, seen the shots up at your grill
Free Lil' Chris up out that jam, he been itchin' for a kill, ho
My money long, mine gone, I'ma tweet for
I was out there trappin' by myself, Ain't need no nigga with me
Soon as you get up in the jam, them Niggas turn iffy
I can't fuck with y'all, I'd
a eighteen 2 nines
Scientist on the beat bitch im bill nye
Pull out and blow on her eyes 2 blind
We aint get out that car this a drive by
Bad lil bitch ass fat
a lil' something like this
I'm in junior high with a B-plus grade
At the end of the day I don't hit the arcade
I walk from school to my mom's
We havin' a check by the way
Huh, woo woo woo
You feel me? You dig
Shit look easy, know what I mean
Hey
Don't I look like I'm the shit lil
Hi this is Steve Austin
Reportin' live from San Diego, California
I'm here wit two controversial rappers from the city
Lil' Rob and Mr. Shadow
heart towards none of you lil' niggas
I've been sittin' alone by myself, countin' up big figures
Now I'm with the mob and we been plottin' on how to get
hide the gun
The jam jam jam jam the drum the sound pop mags on the run
On the low low rolling that wheel, random man got a money deal
Lil brain busting
side
Big Nate, Long Beach, won't keep, lil' jon, TIGHT BEATS, so come on let's ride!
Pimped out jam, tiggle it? slam
Pimpd out. jam' tiggle it?
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