BFB Da Packman, Zack Fox - Bob and WeaveBFB Da Packman lyrics

[BFB Da Packman, Zack Fox - Bob and WeaveBFB Da Packman lyrics]

Okay, let's, let's go, le
I just wanna speak like some
Some real life facts, you know what I mean?
Some shit I've just been dealin' with
But let's go, look (Blaccmass, BNYX)

Out here you gotta bob and weave
I knew I was poppin' when a
Opp said he proud of me
My girl fucked another nigga while
We was in love
That's why I don't believe a bitch when
She say she down for me

Out here you gotta stick and move
Even as a baby
I was makin' plays in the womb
I sent a women's basketball
Playеr hella nudes
I don't give a fuck if it was Spirit, bitch
I got flеwed (Yello)

It's your dream collab, BFB and Zack Fox
I'm fat funny built
So don't ask me why my crack out (Yello)
She want Ocean Prime
But I took the bitch to Black Rock
My uncle mistreated me
That nigga smokin' crack now
When it come to STD's, woo, I'm the mascot
(Yello) i'm off four honey packs
Dick harder than a math problem
On Emmett Till grave, it's February
'bout to act out for twenty-eight days
Have white women suck my black cock
(The Lunch Crew Company)
Man, your pockets brittle
Santorini, Greece sneaky link
Me and Karen Civil (Yello)
Don't wear condoms, truth be told
I can't even fit them
If Lizzo sold her coochie juice, ah
I wanna buy a swiggle i need a helping hand
My brother stole my laptop
He back to smokin' meth again
I got a young bitch
She's Soo Yung and I'm Jackie Chan
She gotta bubble bath me
'fore we fuck, bitch, i'm Method Man

I'm the man around town, do your research
I'll fuck this money up 'til my meat hurt
My ten toes so down they underneath Earth
My neck's so cold
My nipples pokin' out my t-shirt (Woo)
Don't let me in your house
I'll be done stole somethin'
This weed I'm smokin' hella quiet
Like I rolled nothin'
I tried to cook crack once
With my slow cousin
Burned my auntie kitchen down 'cause
We left the stove runnin'
(yeah, we fucked up)
I'll light a nigga up like a hookah torch
Got a gay shooter with a
Ruger in his booty shorts
I be hangin' with my opp's
Son makin' pillow forts
His baby mama let me re-up
With the child support
Niggas talkin' gun shit
But ain't did no slidin' (Not a thing)
I just fucked an old
Bitch with rheumatoid arthritis
(She was old)
I don't fuck with no loud nigga
This OG silent i can dress my goddamn self
I don't need no stylist
(Get the fuck off me)
I ain't fresh? What the hell you mean?
Nigga, I could probably fuck
Rihanna in this LLBean (Woo)
Pockets full of them blues, bitch
I'm BB king forty in my shorts cuddled
Up with my ding-a-ling (My dick)
Nigga try to make a move
Throw them 'bows on 'em (Damn)
I got a glitch on my wrist, bitch
It froze on 'em (Damn)
I treat my guns like my sons
I put clothes on 'em (Damn)
Bitch, if it's up
It stay up like it's no bottom (Damn)
I put my team on my back like a opossum
(Damn)
Niggas wanna fight, it ain't no problem
(Damn) hold your nuts like you Mike
Wipe his nose off him (Damn)
Do him like Joe Jackson
Beat the right notes out him

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