Lyrics:
young to make money while I jog
Taught young to pick a 10 bagger in my sleep by bob
Only way end up with a 10 at my feet
If she sucking on my meet like
can't get rid of it like (Release) business
Magnificent, intimate, in it with, in a minute, gonna be in a nicks
In it with a gig, big fat heads like
business
Magnificent, intimate, in it with, in a minute, gonna be in a nicks
In it with a gig, big fat heads like eggs Benedict
Pigs lick shit, rip with
and the cops can't fade us you better get your weight up come back and face me later (pussy)
you out here looking like screech and im AC Slater
I never cried
Tom Thumb jumped up and said "I got one,
David Duke and Farrakhan riding side-by-side on the top gun"
[Shock-G]
Hickory Dickory Dock, each day I hear
Or on Golf Course grass
Like Damn
Why can't I have what he Has?
Fake it till you make it
Don't live by that
Rich people think first
And then they make plans
a boss
Like her name is Kelis
Drivin' down the right lane
Watchin' the speed
Cause shorty given' me the top
From the passenger's seat
The way that she bob
I like this one
Just let it go Preem
Z06 'vette, gripping feeling almost there
Listening to Bon Jovi, rolling 'Living on a Prayer'
Privy
listening to Bob Dylan
Come through the spot lookin' like a James Bond villain
I say what I wanna say I don't care how you feelin'
I'm trying to stack
on the nice list I'm a different breed
Didn't believe in Santa was too smart for that
Y'all believed in a nigga who was jolly and fat
But my leader didn't
can accept that Santa's fat ass
Can't make it down a chimney
No disrespect, you feel me
Oh, it's neutral
When I die and you're at my funeral
Break it
competition I'd grab a hold of my belt
I spit a bar like I'm Kendrick then hold a note like Adele
So why not treat the top like homecoming and go by myself
I
Krusty the Clown
But I'm focused, like Bob Simpson on a mission, Family dysfunctional, I don't need no permission
So unless you got a death wish, like
one came back again
A lavish recycling trip
A delicate receivership
The granting of new jobs
Flesh covered thing-a-me-bobs
Head shots by dead shots
I may not look it but I
Went to an art school, y'know
And I stole like
eight crates of acrylic before I
Tripped the alarm
Anywho, what can I do for
what I'm bout
I bet (I bet)
That Katie can make your bitch back that ass up and bounce
My fist (My fist)
A Kilimanjaro by the way I keep rocking it out
back that ass up and bounce
My fist
A Kilimanjaro by the way I keep rocking it out
I been the one
After that nigga get stupid don't know how to count
to cross another, like I'm Tom Nook
Bands on top of bands but my priority different
Ain't payin $5.99 if I can slide in your mentions
I gotta problem with
you all my life I don't know your name
(The name's European Bob Sordid, anyway)
We'll have a dance now see ya later
Pleased to meet ya - likewise,
Bitches do anything for a check
I ain't tip her, man, now she upset
Tell these hoes to get sponsored by Nike
Trust me, I know these niggas don't like me
phonies's like its ring Around the rosy
Till they all fall down
Who want smoke
I’ll take em all out one by one
Imma piss u rappers off now just for fun
Ya’ll
like Santa Claus
by the way you getting gifted
and I ain't talking bout no coccy shit
I'm talking bout them solid gold bricks
in my lyrics Riffs
break
Life been tearing my soul apart Like
Some beat up sneakers and
I've been jumping over hurdles, challenges,
Oh you never heard of it?
Really been santa
I gotta close the window before I record
Cause New York don't know how to be quiet
Coogi down to the socks like I'm biggie poppa
Keep your girl head
Discuss these fat like santa by bob tom Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In