Andre Nickatina, Black C - Bobble Heads lyrics
[Andre Nickatina, Black C - Bobble Heads lyrics]
Call me a psycho cus I just might go
Shoot up ya block cus you’re
Walkin' on a tight-rope
Plus I'm off that nitro
Yea that’s that loud pack
We don’t smoke bammer so it's
Best that you fall back
San Francisco ball cat
You’re fuckin with a Giant
Ya niggas say ya real but the real is ya lyin
Is what I don’t do, real is what I live by
Fuck whatcha goin' through if you're tryna
(tempt?) mine
Im tryna get mine ballin fuck getting by
You suckas hatin' cus you
Fallin' like a zipline
While I sip wine with a
Thick bitch with thick thighs
Small waist pretty face, tryna get high
She said she like real niggas, no farce
But, you’re bitchmade actin worse
Than these broads
Goin' through they menstral
All up in ya mental
Just like a bitch ya keep
Dick up in ya dental damn
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
You can hip, hop on the muthafuckin' jock
Im an RBL nigga getting
Money 'round the clock
And these bitches don’t stop when it
Comes to this black nigga
In the Bay, I'm a legendary rap figure
Plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat nigga
You're not loyal to the soil
You's a rat nigga
And I'm a real one, the last of a dying breed
Im off kush muhfuckah you smoke bammer weed
I fuck with top notch bitches
In that Prada wear
You fuck with low budget bitches
With them bobble heads
Yea, you niggas strictly sickly
For real, you niggas can't get with me
And you can believe it or not like Ripleys
Ya boy been an underground king like Pimp C
Or like Mac Dre, or like Mr c
I go hard on a bitch, no sympathy
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
You say oh god cus im givin' you hell
Leather jacket, adidas with them shells
You can miss me like a stray bullet
Gary Coleman on ya ass with a new Qillis
Sheeit, God-Khan but I’m still a capo
I let the weed hit me while
Jimi Hendrix sang Sand Castles
I dip through the big pineapple
And if you see me real quick
It's something like an eye sample
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
Shoot up ya block cus you’re
Walkin' on a tight-rope
Plus I'm off that nitro
Yea that’s that loud pack
We don’t smoke bammer so it's
Best that you fall back
San Francisco ball cat
You’re fuckin with a Giant
Ya niggas say ya real but the real is ya lyin
Is what I don’t do, real is what I live by
Fuck whatcha goin' through if you're tryna
(tempt?) mine
Im tryna get mine ballin fuck getting by
You suckas hatin' cus you
Fallin' like a zipline
While I sip wine with a
Thick bitch with thick thighs
Small waist pretty face, tryna get high
She said she like real niggas, no farce
But, you’re bitchmade actin worse
Than these broads
Goin' through they menstral
All up in ya mental
Just like a bitch ya keep
Dick up in ya dental damn
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
You can hip, hop on the muthafuckin' jock
Im an RBL nigga getting
Money 'round the clock
And these bitches don’t stop when it
Comes to this black nigga
In the Bay, I'm a legendary rap figure
Plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat nigga
You're not loyal to the soil
You's a rat nigga
And I'm a real one, the last of a dying breed
Im off kush muhfuckah you smoke bammer weed
I fuck with top notch bitches
In that Prada wear
You fuck with low budget bitches
With them bobble heads
Yea, you niggas strictly sickly
For real, you niggas can't get with me
And you can believe it or not like Ripleys
Ya boy been an underground king like Pimp C
Or like Mac Dre, or like Mr c
I go hard on a bitch, no sympathy
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail
You say oh god cus im givin' you hell
Leather jacket, adidas with them shells
You can miss me like a stray bullet
Gary Coleman on ya ass with a new Qillis
Sheeit, God-Khan but I’m still a capo
I let the weed hit me while
Jimi Hendrix sang Sand Castles
I dip through the big pineapple
And if you see me real quick
It's something like an eye sample
It’s the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin
All them suckas is crashin', burnin'
Money, gone, lookin all old
Look at my poker face, I’ll never fold
Cock, reload, sellout shows
Mouse rangs and all thangs, pull out ya gold
Don’t tell me about it homie
Pull out ya hoes
Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail