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db.boutabag - top rapper lyrics
[intro: db.boutabag]
ayy, you got a wack jumper
all that pillow talkin’ on the ‘gram and you ain’t slap nothin’
you know my n_ggas in the building, you see racks bustin’
and i’m smokin’ dope before my shows like i’m david ruffin
we can’t contact
you ain’t talkin’ blues, lil’ baby, we can’t contact
b_tch, i’m right through that— skrrt
b_tch, i’m right through that road like a lineback
b_tch, i’m— why you ask that?
and i’m still— uh
used to f_ck the— they broke up, now we back f_ckin’
ayy, n_gga—
paranoid behind tint clutchin’ and this b_tch russian
(ayy, i’m boutabag, ain’t gotta ask me)
[verse 1: db.boutabag]
i’m just a boutabag n_gga, why you ask that? (why you ask that that?)
in them trenches still, twin got that trap jumpin’ (twin got that trap jumpin’)
used to f_ck the b_tch, they broke up, now we back f_ckin’ (now we back f_ckin’)
paranoid behind tint clutchin’ and this b_tch russian (and this b_tch russian)
ayy, n_gga, you got a wack jumper (you got a wack jumper)
all that pillow talkin’ on the ‘gram and you ain’t slap nothin’ (you ain’t slap nothin’)
you know my n_ggas in the building, you see racks bustin’ (you see racks bustin’)
and i’m smokin’ dope before my shows like i’m david ruffin (b_tch, i’m gettin’ klocked)
baby gettin’ thundered off this contact (off this contact)
you ain’t talkin’ bluеs, lil’ baby, we can’t contact (n_gga, you can’t contact)
b_tch, i’m right through that road like a lineback (likе a lineback)
and i’m tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at? (b_tch, where your mom at?)
ayy, ’cause i’m gon’ run it over (i’m gon’ run it over)
you in her purse off a pill, i’m in her while she sober (i’m in her while she sober)
you don’t hang out with no benjis, all you n_ggas loners (you n_ggas bums)
n_ggas only hard around a b_tch, but he don’t keep a blower (ain’t got the pole)
ayy, is you goofy? pause (n_gga)
brother out here trippin’, he keep stick in his drawers (he keep stick in his drawers)
three hoes (three hoes), call him santa claus (n_gga)
f_ck a broke b_tch, yeah, this rich d_ck ain’t for y’all (ain’t for y’all)
you see these deadstock kicks? i ain’t get ’em from the mall (i ain’t get ’em from the mall)
lil’ ‘sace belt, keep a pair of ethis for the drawers (keep a— for the drawers)
she lookin’ at me now, sound like round of applause (goals)
these b_tches say i’m poppin’, say my locs gettin’ long (go, go, go)
wasn’t f_ckin’ with me, i was on my ass, b_tch, you wrong (b_tch, you wrong)
n_gga speakin’ on his bag, we gotta get him gone, ayy (get that n_gga)
slim thick bad b_tch, nia long (ah)
b_tch, i’m klocked in this b_tch, cheech & chong (b_tch, i’m klocked)
i’m gon’ f_ck, now she need some blues clues, b_tch, i’m gone (i gotta go)
i remember days tryna bust a trap all alone (ayy, i’m to the neck)
eyes on the road, don’t answer on no phones (don’t answer on no phones)
i’m the sh_t, now i always talk sh_t on microphones (talk sh_t on microphones)
two_steppin’ in my mode, on my whoadie, he gon’ go (i miss my brother)
i think i love givenchy clothes, i’m off this dog, got me slumped (n_gga, don’t get smacked)
i ain’t playin’ limbo, b_tch, my eyes gettin’ low (i’m in here klocked)
gang task pulled me over, said, “sir, we smell smoke,” ayy (we smell smoke)
[interlude: db.boutabag]
ayy, you got a wack jumper
all that pillow talkin’ on the ‘gram and you ain’t slap nothin’
you know my n_ggas in the building, you see racks bustin’
and i’m smokin’ dope before my shows like i’m david ruffin
baby gettin’ thundered off this contact
you ain’t talkin’ blues, lil’ baby, we can’t contact
b_tch, i’m right through that road like a lineback
and i’m tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at?
[verse 2: drakeo the ruler]
i got pippi longstocking in the compact
just got off the phone with lil boat, but this a yacht_master
i see you dropped a couple sh_lls, but i shot faster
this sheneneh, that’s a stick, i’m a glock master
always see me up in la, i’m a top rapper
any foreign you can think of, n_gga, i crashed it
you seen us up in 2016, we was not rappin’
we was wildin’ in the streets, i done shot rappers
won’t ever see me with a gun, n_gga, i’m cappin’
if it don’t carry a drum, i cannot have it
just gave a n_gga the business, i ain’t no stock owner
brains all on wall street, i ain’t no stock broker
boy, you carryin’ a hi_point, you is not focused
a hundiddy on his block left the glock smokin’
all them pictures with them blowers, you do not own one
his mans was a free throw, he got a wack jumper
a hundiddy on his block left the glock smokin’
all them pictures with them blowers, you do not own one
his mans was a free throw, he got a wack jumper
he pulled up actin’ like a b_tch, i had to slap on him, ugh
[outro: db.boutabag]
ayy, you got a wack jumper
all that pillow talkin’ on the ‘gram and you ain’t slap nothin’
you know my n_ggas in the building, you see racks bustin’
and i’m smokin’ dope before my shows like i’m david ruffin
baby gettin’ thundered off this contact
you ain’t talkin’ blues, lil’ baby, we can’t contact
b_tch, i’m right through that road like a lineback
and i’m tryna hit your old lady, where your mom at?
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