Lyrics:
Fabo
I feel like Fabo, I feel just like Fabo
I'm back at it, Juug man voice (Yung Ralph)
Bankhead
Hear my song way from Y-T-C-R-O-B-S-M-M, now we YSL
come back and win by three
Alright!
I love it!
Fuck you guys!
Sorry, buddy...
Who's the new guy?
Oh, that's my friend John.
Hey John... sweet hat!
I'm goin' gold you see that I'm da one
Got no time to waste you see that I'm da one
Vision on first place you see that I'm da one
Gotta spit it from my
the other shit that's goin' in my brain
My brother got out of jail, I only know him by name
He did a nickel and a dime in time, probably be stayin' with my
I'm a little nutty and I know it but if you
Go back and take a look at my history
You will see that I am not the
Only one who's off his rocker
There
I’m A Porsche N.I.G.G.A
Tree Houses In Bali, Where I Smoke The Cali
They Content, They Must Have Me Bent, I’ma Represent
Humble Savage, She Not Average,
I’m A Porsche N.I.G.G.A
Tree Houses In Bali, Where I Smoke The Cali
They Content, They Must Have Me Bent, I’ma Represent
Humble Savage, She Not Average,
a lotta quick stops
If you're walkin' and I'm speedin' by often
It's called stalkin', you're 'bout to need a coffin
Double-padded wide seat for my
rolled herself,
to the hospital, to see if she could get a little help,
umbilicle cords wrapped around my neck,
im seein' my death, and i ain't even took
Swerve, I'm still dope that's my word
All I did was the switch the kitchens, did some tracks on the birds
Irv, Gotti know I'ma murderer
Half these niggas
the one, you are the one
Amazed by the way that you shake them hips
Shakin' your ass all on my dick
I get aroused by them sexy lips
'Cause you are
so them hoes don't see who drivin',
With a loaded uzi, Tec-9, ak, I'm packin' down more,
Drivin' down real low, tryin' to get to circle,
Picked up my
rhymes
'Cause my thoughts stay runnin' like thugs from one-time
I been through it under the influence, bustin' off I'm runnin' into it
See me say he
a model hoe's wet dream, in her sleep
Performin' X-rated fuck scenes, me goin' deep
O.c. The Starchild, let your cameras record
I'm like a man bein
It's OK, they're clean
Well, I checked into my room and I turned down the A/C
And I turned on the SpectraVision
And I'm just about to eat that
get up on the road
I'ma do my dance like it's Sadie Hawkins
Boy I got the sauce, that's true
Girl, I'm living proof
Tie your tennis shoes, you
off of my dick?
Words in the way, I'm at lost by 'em
I give you a JFK on the front lawn of MLK in the crossfire (get down, nigga)
I have evolved into
still got these racks, put this shit on yah head
Gotta watch what I say, no I'm not goin' fed
Had to kick out the bitch ,she ain't wanna give head
My
I told ya, Rampage a real live soldier
Been in the game, sinc the age of thirteen
A microphone fiend, so I'm goin to see my P.O.
It's August
I'm okay at basketball... baseball was more my thing....
Well, uh, I think they have a pickup game goin on at 10 AM tomorrow
morning in the main gym
on my Jack Jones
Take everything but that soul
At least you're still alive
I'm evil in disguise
This guy's like black Coke coca-Coca
Yeah i'm liking fat
to Bangkok
Big fat titties when they hanging out my tank top
Huh, you gon' play me?
On Instagram, niggas tryna to shade me
But your bitch at home tryna
caress my chest
Tellin' me that I'm the best, no DJ Khaled,
my stroke game's valid
Cuz If i see two female twins, I'm goin' in like I'm Johnny Sins
Booty
might let you see
You say I'm lunchin but ya running
Git you goin keep ya cumin
Peel ya onion If ya wit it
Write my name across ya body all in cursive
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