Текст SOB x RBE – Anti Social
Текст:
Sample:
Attack me with your love baby
Yhung T.O.:
I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in your nah, nah, nah, nah
Oh nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, ay
Yeah, yeah
Oh nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
Oh nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
And I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in yo’ music
I don’t wanna be yo’ fan
Glock hold thirty I give a nigga ten
Two flights a day I be gone now
Barely drive, all my cars sit at home now
Three whips, three chains and they bust down
RBE, SOB bitch we up now
Yeah what’s up with all these niggas waveridin’
And I’m only up in guns so you can’t fight it
Niggas tryna find themselves and they can’t find it
Nigga give my dick back no you can’t ride it
4-5 and it ain’t silent
They be flexin’ for the social so it ain’t private
It be shit I wanna say but I can’t type it
But these shells hit his chest ’til his heart silent
Keep your mouth closed
All these diamonds in my mouth can’t keep my mouth closed
All these chains layin’ ’round got my house got my house froze
And my TV’s hella big that was house goals
Made two hundred thousand that’s before the deal
Had to put your name on it so you know it’s real
And my loaf hella big, I can’t fold it still
Don’t make a diss, send shots so I know it’s real
I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in your music
I don’t wanna be yo’ fan
Glock hold thirty I give a nigga ten
And I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in your music
I don’t wanna be yo’ fan
This Glock hold thirty I give a nigga ten
DaBoii:
Big Glock, long clips, but they all props
You just talkin’ on them songs those are not shots
We ain’t talkin’ on the net, we are not cops
Niggas love shootin’ clouds are not opps
A lot of niggas want me gone I ain’t worried ’bout it
If your Glock hold thirty shoot the Curry out it
You ain’t playing by the rules, nigga learn about it
Opp niggas pullin’ skits I ain’t heard about it
What your hand out for? I ain’t shakin’ that
I could sit on my ass and still make rack
Them opinions in your song, niggas state a fact
If there’s money to be made, I ain’t taken’ that
Bitch you a chicken head now you in a snack
All a bitch get is dick, I won’t get attached
If you thuggin’ in that field, nigga get a strap
That’s how niggas lose they life and don’t get it back
Bitch
Yhung T.O.:
I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in your music
I don’t wanna be yo’ fan
Glock hold thirty, I give a nigga ten
And I don’t wanna be yo man
I don’t fuck with niggas
I don’t wanna shake yo hand
You be lyin’ in your music
I don’t wanna be yo’ fan
This Glock hold thirty, I give a nigga ten
