Benny the Butcher, Heem B$F, Chase Fetti, Billy V - Mobbin’ lyrics

Uh! Y'all know me!
Heem! Switchin' up, nigga!
Look

I told my plug that I need
It he said he got it baking soda, pyrex
And then you gotta chop it
Give a couple samples out before
You get that block lit
My niggas really pop shit, I let my gun blow
I'm like Mutumbo with this block shit
We don't rumble nigga
We just let that Glock spit
Hot 16s on them, MAC with the beam on 'em
Catch me OT shit he know we
Got some beams on 'em
My real life is like a dream for him
Yeah, and we ain't coppin' nothin' over 40
Nigga i know the prices I been
Hustlin' since a shorty, nigga
I'm in the fast car
Switchin' lanes to nothin' but some Tauri?
All face shots, give a nigga
This just my story
I'm just livin' niggas' truths
From the brawls to the shootout
To the pigeon on the stoop
I'm a God load the B
I get vicious in the booth
Sell a hard like CP, I be givin' niggas oops

36 O's and 8 big A's to make a brick
Take a whole nine ounces in shake
And play the strip
MAC-11 with the smart air holes
Come spray the strip
Now you live on FOX 5 at 5
Let's shoot a clip
Shooter aimin' with a long Tre-5
Right through the dip
Gon' be a vegetable if he survive
Walk with a limp
Bad bitch, that'll shoot while I drive
I know a trick
These niggas gamblin' with they lives
I'm throwin' trips it's me and F
I'm with the most fuck with some Crips
I'm 700 throwin' up foes I'll get you clipped
I'm wit' my wolves run with some
Zoes I'll get you hit
See my kit froze, diamonds and gold
Die for this shit
3 letters, all VVS stones ride for this shit
'Member times I had a 35 strive for a brick
Or 25-62 at a time, ridin' with grit's
Now I'm spendin' what I made off a 9
Shoppin' at Fifth's nigga

Huh, religious candle on my gun barrel
Label you food and have my hunter snack you
Think you that dude that had my dun clap you
Little bitch, me myself I'll slap you
Stop lookin' baffled I was
Destined to patch you
Fat raps to patch me, sold dope pulled straps
On the phone with my brimo back home, cabron
Where the fuck the cocaine at?
Si señor, I pray the Chapo send more
Mi amor, suck dick and transport
Arguin' with rich, slapboxin' with poor
Deep with robbery, and that nigga extorts
Think this shit a game
Let's play Puto Bloodsport
Shooter said "Benny get them" and
I got them of course
One damo sel dinero 'cause you never know
Ain't no 4-1 K's when you sell kilos
Ya mamo sa Colombia they gon' send more yola
I told you that before now
The patch is Sinaloa
You talkin' if you get it, I'm hablando a ora

Yeah, uh, we mobbin', as usual
I'm losin' you
My business tight as super glue
I'm gettin' niggas clipped and
Payin' for funerals
I'm rich and my rep don't gotta stay
In this shit to prove to you
She said "I don't know you
I seen your chain and had to Google you"
I'm clearin' real numbers
That appeal to real hustlers
Versace carpet in the Benz that
Match the steering wheel cover family man
'bout to hand these bands
To my little brothers
Candyman, say my name and I
Appear in real colors
I got a migo out west so
Them kilos can stand wet
I got a little bitch from Brooklyn
Who told me I can't dress
I did a buck down rodeo no top on a ten vet
And yes nigga I'm one of
Them rappers you can't check!
Real stories 'bout my life but this
Not how y'all frauds doin'
Y'all just tell a buncha lies
And exaggerate in y'all music
Askin' Jackson with that 4-pound you
Know how the squad doin'
When in Lake City jumped out the
Whip with the car movin'
When they hit pass the blick to my bitch
Let my bro shoot it i got 4 or 5 royals
Retained and they all Jewish
I'm nowhere near chef, but a brick I can cook
So I'm real as it gets, and
I'm rich as I look, nigga, ah