Bobby Did It (Spanish Fly)

Lyrics

[Intro: Islord] Ayo, let me tell y'all niggas somethin' One thing – let me tell y'all niggas somethin' I don't give a flyin' fuck about none of y'all niggas out here None of y'all niggas out here 'Cause you ain't – none of my motherfuckin' comrades I don't give a flyin' fuck, what? Y'all want it? Bring it son, bring it, son Bring it, yo, check it on out [Refrain: Ndira, talking over Islord above] ¿Bobby, como puede ser que me jodistes? Hijo de puta Come mi coño de mi, maricon Y nunca me llamas Me tratas like an analog ho, Roberto [Verse 1: Islord, (Timbo King)] Yo, lyrically, I got all y'all niggas under my wing 'Cause I bring terror throughout this rap era Like them Muslim cats Who don't give a fuck about blowin' this rock off the map Where Mayor Giuliani rest at; so let me get that Microphone up off of you 'Cause it's definitely not meant for you To have it in your palm To try to rock the crowd, puttin' it all on to stay calm You waited for the god Islord to drop the bomb And swarm the stage about a hundred fat With lyrical material that's all that Like a 2.5 carat clustered jew-el Rock like Patti La-Belle 'Cause everything is real, kid, dead 'up Is' Ice the truth, kids gettin' set up For a car G-heist, it ain't nice As we ran up in the crib and stuck the kid And smacked the wife 'cause she had on two chains With a tray full of ice in 'em But that's how it goes down When you livin' in the cold world (Cold world, what?!) [Chorus: Ndira] Todo lo que a ti te gustas música – lo puta [Verse 2: Timbo King] Yo, I spit flames, thermonuclear type, ignite mics Blow up U.S.A. satellites Insane Unabomber, my whole fam laced, golden armor Royal karma, Black queen Black Madonna The missing link be the big lips on the Sphinx Intelligent instincts I say Knowledge is the foundation When I move in the L's formation against Hell's nation Bobby Digital cyber-tech test micro-check High bias record the levels Anti- four devils, anti- four devils [Refrain: Ndira] ¿Bobby, como puede ser que me jodistes? Hijo de puta Come mi coño de mi, maricon Y nunca me llamas Me tratas like an analog ho, Roberto Nadie te importa, cariño I wanna be Digital, Bobby Bobby Dígital RZA me advertio de Bobby Bobby Dígital [Verse 3: Bobby Digital] All you analog cats from weak tracks and weak raps And weak video clips and weak stacks Weak bitches, with weak lawyers, and weak acts, and weak staff Born Life couldn't copyright with weak math Come get a dose of this strong Coconuts-splittin', all you chocolate deluxe butter alms French buttercups – probably wanna see Bobby in handcuffs With your toes in my mouth Stand up or rape me, rotate auto-locate me In the center solar, corner block Hip-Hop now expand to the polar Fuzzy low short frequency Circuit breakers, try to take – us On illusionary rides to the future Rodney Graham graphic, rap actors, flash ya Cash and jewelry like bus passes That's why your ass got stuck up So wake the fuck up, or get smoked Analog rhymes hoes are like groupies we fucked Took her for derelict, sales are too soupy Better get the Bobby Digital movie! [Chorus: Ndira] Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés [Verse 4: Ghostface Killah] Tarantula, DAT groove seasoned Newlywed of rap, which G you believe in? Rollie back-twisted half a man arm off Late night, Nellie-'Happy' stand-off I'll bully, blinded by Bobby cross-thieving van diva Lever 2000 mic talk, might bolt to M*A*S*H Pinch me in the Eve, carved perfectly from God Manufactured through the eye, King Goomba dash Eyes stares Dewmar, Nicolas "half-a-face" Cage Have a cooked duck, sprinkle sage Bounce to Huey crib, yo, and got laid Straight off the ground y'all – word up! …Bad kids! [Verse 5: Jamie Sommers] Yo, yo, yo – Montero dashed sports black Yo... my nigga Diggs will leave you whiplashed, feel the cash Pussy worth the key a stash, bloodbath Hard to walk the righteous path Flavorful like kiss-of-death berry, touch of ginger Ushy mad tender Analogs surrender off my motherfuckin' splendor Jamie Sommers pussy bionic, supersonic Splash you with the Wu-Wear garments for the '9-fuckin'-9 Motherfuckers [Chorus: Ndira] Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés... putés... putés... [Outro: Ndira] Bobby, all you ever want is weed, money, music, and pussy