Lyrics:
on the track
So say what you like, you just givin' me gas
So by now, I got enough to drive to Venus and back
So I'ma
[Chorus - B.o.B]
Make a lot of money
(Make
fuckin’ with it
Pockets fat these racks can’t fit in
Hmm
Don’t be too pissed by what I m spittin’
Cuz I kept
[HOOK ]
Bob and Weavin’ Bob and Weavin’
But first, I'd like you to meet my friend Bob (huh?)
Say hi, Bob (hi, Bob) Bob's thirty and still lives with his mom
And he don't got a job, 'cause
But first, I'd like you to meet my friend Bob (huh?)
Say hi, Bob (hi, Bob) Bob's thirty and still lives with his mom
And he don't got a job, 'cause
The fence is too high to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell, hot
Get a life, now they on sale
Then I might cast you a spell
Look at what
The fence is too high to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell, hot
Get a life, now they on sale
Then I might cast you a spell
Look at what
The fence is too high to jump in jail
Too low to dig, I might just touch hell, hot
Get a life, now they on sale
Then I might cast you a spell
Look at what
head "Ruff, ruff an' rugged we comin'"
Ah just a bob ya head
Well I believe you weave and bob the job is done
By Run so come get some for fun
Keep
White boys please! Can barely believe
I walk by as they hold they skeets
By the seams of they jeans
CREAM get the money
And run it to the hills y'all
The people that you meet each day
(a blue muppet, I believe, walks onstage)
[Bob: Oh, hi there, little fella.]
[Anything Muppet #1: Hello.]
[Bob
rag top
C'mon, bob your head, rag top
Bob your head, rag top
C'mon, bob your head, rag top
One, two, one, two, three, let's go
Don't pull
briefs
White boys please! Can barely believe
I walk by as they hold they skeets by the seams of they jeans
C.R.E.A.M. get the money, and run it
needed)
(So high, so high am I) Let's get P.O.D.'ded
Slow down, make it too smoky for you, baby
Fucked up, look at you faded
I am what I am as a thug
he makes the party Boing, Boing
Bob Digi makes the party Boing, Boing
[Mr. Tibbs]
I'm a country man at heart but a city man by nature
'cause even
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
Bombs over Baghdad! Yeah
B-I-G, B-O-I
An-An-Andre
To the T-O-P
Bob
the stage, that's when I got my folks hooked like
Well, you want me to get D.E.E.P., well then, I will
What? What will happen if you shoot that nigga
Bronx Style Bob is in the house, what you wanna do? (Party!)
Hen-Gee is in the house, what you wanna do, homeboy? (Party!)
My man Shaquel is in
anyway, fuck it)
B.o.B or T.I.P. Know what I'm saying, you be the judge, dog
(Which could be the better acronym for the song)
But you know what either way
make me blind
Let me take another look at
You for one more time
Oh boy, what ya doing to me?
Don't look at me like it's make-believe
One by one 'til
Bottoms up, bottoms up, bottoms up
Miss KeKe P, lookin' extra glossy
Got a pep your style, lookin' extra flossy
I'm bossy, but I keeps it cute
With my
Asics, (coke test) I ace it
I been rich, since 20, bitch
Gun right by the cash (what's that?) the money clip
This Gucci kicker got your girl in nuddy
[Master P]
Ha Ha Ha
Most niggas might think I'm crazy when I tell em this
(Yeah G)
But you know what most nigga look up to like Presidents
head, then look away
Now bob your head, then look away
Now bob your head, then look away
It's Miss Keke P, rocking the M-I-C, haha, ooh
Yeah, yeah,
Check what the flowers on the hearse say
R.I.P to your worst rhyme
My rise is a curse to remind you
I'm here
Comin' for the best ain't a good idea
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