Lyrics:
wanna be next to you
Like Dr. Tom, like Mr. Met
Like Professor Frink, like a Chia pet
Like Eddie Bow, like Bob Levito??
Like Jill Talley, like Don
Zaytoven bang, bang, bang bang
All this weed I smoke I think I'm Bob Marley
(Dope)
I got a ounce in the motherfuckin' party (Oh)
Baby, please don't
by the money fucking benji on vacation
I'm getting big bands everything's a hit man
Ya life's in the dirt sinking in like its quick sand
Call the sand
and you'll never get beat
By the junk food tattooed white dude true blued
Honky with an attitude coming unglued
Fate's right hand...I don't understand
the rubbers cause the groupies so gross
4AM still stoned I aint going home
Hit yo girls phone like, "Bitch, I need dome"
Got four wheels, spinning chrome,
I just got a quarter in this bitch
Wassup
Trying to roll a Bob Marley
Fuck a spliff
Wassup
Got a little bad bitch with me
Take a picture
In
means I was retarded
Drank tequila
Hammered like Bob Vila in her apartment
I walked outside with Tom Knight, drunk
And we came up with this great idea
dope
Fuck your shooter, heard his pistol on safety
I might double wrap and bubble wrap your wife and baby
I've been poppin' rubber bands, rubber
don't get fed up
My people rise, my people fight
My people do alright
My people walk with pride and
We're marchin' side by side and
My people laugh,
standing by the volume, got the volume turned up
I be smoking on that super strong, they say I'm burnt up
Turn that shit down
You know I like to party, Bob
fallin
For me
It's always a movie witchu
Not NLE but I'll take a Tom wit me when I cruise
If u step up yo yard'll get stomped by my dudes
Like a football
Bob with the beat. Mob with team
I'm wanna be next up I'm not, but I might be
All the way to the top now sight see
Sit back I'm chillin like an ICEE
to me
More Buffett more beer ah ha yeah I'll play any song that you want to hear
A Bob Marley song or a sing along a little Jack Johnson yeah you can't go
at will
Did seven on the slide, 8 worldwide
I'll be on my third Bentley by the time I'm at 9
I hear 'em crying, "You gon' sell out?" Ya damn right!
I
the Deacon
Cat's away, well, the mice will play
Lol, smiley face, have a nice-a day
'Cause pop, pop, pop, there goes my rubber band
So stop, stop, stop
I adore exploring the corridors to Mordor
Doom and murder spewed through the YouTube converter
Still hungry, debtor better cop one of Bob's Burgers
the Deacon
Cat's away, well, the mice will play
Lol, smiley face, have a nice-a day
'Cause pop, pop, pop, there goes my rubber band
So stop, stop, stop
A Bentley coupe
But I do not need a truck
I pull out my tommy
Yo ass betta duck
Keep Tom by my side
Cause I keep it tucked
The police said freeze
But I can't
the motherlands
Popping all night with the rubber bands
A baddies never mad when she with her friends
Uhh
Yeah I'm outside in them humma lambs
Uhh
Yeah you peep
Bob Shane/Tom Drake/Miriam Stafford
Chorus:
Run Molly, run (oh, Molly). Run Molly, run. Long John's gonna beat you, beneath the shinin' sun.
Long
in a three room run down shack
At the foot of the hill by the railroad track
Where decent folks don't go when the sun goes down
My daddy worked
fast
Stack a hundred bills in your right hand
Right there by the couch bag of rubber bands
Gotta get 5, double stacked that's a hundred grand
Rose
Imagine this breeze coming from the ceiling fast
Stack a hundred bills in your right hand
Right there by the couch bag of rubber bands
Gotta get 5,
Rubber-grip-holder, reloader, come at me
I'ma rip your soliders in half, silverback ape, nickel-plated mag
Young, rich and flashy, young bitch, I'm nasty
All black
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