Lyrics Freddie Gibbs – Burn Rubber
Text:
It’s about family and uh, stacking up this paper
That’s what it’s really about, what up?
If I wasn’t rapping, I’d still be doing this old shit here
Y’know, this ain’t nothin’ but materialistic
Yeah, straight from the tippy-top
Ghetto nigga flip flop at the Bentley lot
Duffle bag, boy, up on that 250 yacht
Finna rain on these hoes with the drippy-drop
Yeah, ride with the semi cocked
Hit a lick at the bus on the rent-a-cop
They know nigga flip-flop at the Bentley lot
Finna rain all these hoes with the drippy-drop
Nigga, whip the pot, nigga, whip the butter
Finna hop in that foreign and burn rubber
AMG, put the kit on that mothafucka
I might trick a few dollars, but I don’t love her (yeah)
I don’t got time for bitches
Go backstage at my show there’s a line of bitches
Black, Latino and white, it’s all kind of bitches
Nigga, might catch a case, never mind them bitches
Never mind them hoes, never mind them haters
They gon’ smile in your face and say «fuck you» later
Grab my fork and my scale and my calculator
You can’t touch me like Hammer, I’m touchin’ paper (yeah)
Copped a mansion on the acres, my shit on a mountain so fuck a neighbor
Got my fork and my scale and my calculator
You can’t touch me like Hammer, I’m touchin’ paper
Yeah, hop in that foreign and burn rubber
AMG, put the kit on that mothafucka
Yeah, hop in that foreign and burn rubber
AMG, put the kit on that mothafucka
I might trick a few dollars, but I don’t love her
Nigga I don’t love her, nigga I don’t need her
I just K.O.’d that pussy, I’m undefeated
I’m the underground king, nigga Bun beat it
Used to rap with that raw dope in my 2-liter
I still rap with that pot jumping out the speaker
‘Bout to hop in that pack, movin’ Micheal Keaton
In the Jeep just like Nino, my brother’s keeper
Beat the case, tell them crackas I’m undefeated (yeah)
Thuggin’ like Master P, I always feel like somebody be watchin’ me
I’m just sellin’ it, dawg, get it poppin’, leave
Served my first clucker on Carolina street
Put some bread on your head, I can buy the street
I got killas that’s goin’ off the powder, G
Drop the top like your ho sloppy-toppin’ me
She gon’ drop off the dog and then probably leave
I just mixed up half a brick in the blender
Hundred pounds of that stanky boy, crack a window
‘Bout to wrap up this shit, where you wanna send em’?
Fuck with killers, drug dealers, they no pretenders
Bet they bury me a G ain’t no pretender
Blowin’ dope they smoke up out of tinted Benzes
Daughter never gotta worry about tuition
Bet they bury me, G ain’t no pretender
Yeah, hop in that foreign and burn rubber
AMG, put the kit on that mothafucka
I might trick a few dollars, but I don’t love her
Yeah, hop in that foreign and burn rubber
AMG, put the kit on that mothafucka
I might trick a few dollars, but I don’t love her