The Mob

Lyrics

[Intro: Hit-Boy] Yeah Drinks still out Niggas don't even understand For real, yeah [Chorus] Niggas like to speak outside your house That's why I'm not inviting niggas to the crib as much I could tell they'd rather see my ribs touch Then to see me eat, uh, shit is deep [Verse 1: Hit-Boy] Keep your integrity intact, HB still fuckin' with the tracks They try and pull me down, bucket full of crabs You snapchattin', I got a pocket full of snaps, uh Bitch back up, never made no backup plans, uh Fuck what you thought, double check, try again Yeah, even if she still leave with a kiss Can't trust a bitch again, long as I live, uh [Chorus: Hit-Boy] Niggas like to speak outside your house That's why I'm not inviting niggas to the crib as much I could tell they'd rather see my ribs touch Then to see me eat, uh, shit is deep [Verse 2: Hit-Boy] Before I get fucked over I get on [?] Raekwon, by the bonfire, did it for the C.R.E.A.M Couple thousand beats they ain't for the cheap Bitch come off when I beat, time to hit the streets Yeah, HS87 that's my squad Reppin' that until he punch the clock Ain't fallin' for the ooh-wop, that's on god, uh Bangin' photoshoot by guwop, try and plot, um yeah Free my brother Chilly Chill from the mob Yeah the surf club shit inside my heart Since the bubble eyed Lex I went hard To the niggas that wen't left send my regards, uh [Chorus] Niggas like to speak outside your house That's why I'm not inviting niggas to the crib as much I could tell they'd rather see my ribs touch [Verse 3: Dom Kennedy] So, I like to smile at all my opps Whisper: "you can get your shit pop" Wake up with my logo on my socks Crazy girls, yeah, might blowin' up LJ in the cut, weed in my lungs Shoes brand new, came for the ones I heard she wanna charge me for a hit and run All out of fucks, I don't give 'em none Bitch, back up, never had no back up plans Half-A-Mil, but you don't stand half-a-chance Niggas still biting Dapper Dan Runnin' through Phoenix like I'm Nash Parked the truck up and do the [?] Them MVP trophies, time to get me one It's funny seeing phony niggas clicking up [?] through life just [?] drugs Hardwood floors, real fur rugs Mickey Burns ain't got nothin' on me Let them niggas talk outside your house Stussy throw blankets on my couch I couldn't even tell it was a drought I ain't really trippin', we got an influx [?] on 33rd, I'm picking ribs up Heard the big engine when we slipped up Chanel bag seats, feelin' real plush [Chorus: Hit-Boy] Niggas like to speak outside your house That's why I'm not inviting niggas to the crib as much I could tell they'd rather see my ribs touch Then to see me eat, uh, shit is deep [Outro: Big Hit] Homie, homie, that's what it, do my nigga You know what I'm sayin', calling from the pen, my nigga These crackers are shipping out of state, my nigga You know what I'm sayin', without my consent That's how they do everyday [?], you know what I'm sayin' Everything is on contract, not the shit y'all [?] don't know You know what I'm sayin', while y'all niggas out there thinkin' y'all bosses, nigga, you fucking with the real boss, boss of all bosses, nigga, Big Hit, bitch, you know what I'm sayin', Hit-Boy, bitch, nigga, [?] bitch, you know what I'm talkin' bout, [?], bitch ass niggas, you know what I'm sayin', niggas never run up with your motherfuckin' mouth, nigga That part!