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lirik lagu weigh ins – allblack & kenny beats

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[intro: allblack]
well, well, well, well, well
rob vicious, what’s happenin’, dude?
what do we have here, weirdo?
kenny, thank you
sh0r-line, what’s happenin’?
woah, kenny

[verse 1: allblack]
threw on my black hoodie, pesos
fresh as f-ck like the first laundromat load (check me out)
up that fire, he gon’ turf dance, no girbauds (scary -ss n-gga)
hope he cut so i don’t bust, i came for the ho
mud here, 10 kit, i gotta go
hit the board, whipped out 10, i keep them bands (check)
two fifths, dom and pat, finna start a trend (trend, a trend)
it’s rolla day, you done f-cked, so we all got bands
rockstars, p-ss out then do it again
with the club, skip the dub, i got a crazy plan
y’all thank god ’cause he the reason i ain’t use this k
no more f-ckin’ outcalls, i am done with dates
no more bungalow bums, lyin’ in my face
did foul sh-t, slapped suckers and broke a few hoes
but i never sucked no d-ck, or changed for dough
might sound crazy, but i never went half with a ho

[chorus: allblack & rob vicious]
keep your b-tch on a leash, or tucked in the house
glock in my g-stars for your broke -ss mouth
i got diamonds on my wrist and gold in my mouth
and i’m still with hittin’ l!cks, n-gga, f-ck your couch
keep your b-tch on a leash, or tucked in the house
catch you in traffic, on jehovah, i’m axin’ you out
got a torch at the house for your broke -ss mouth
and i’m still with hittin’ l!cks, n-gga, f-ck your couch

[verse 2: rob vicious]
black shoes, black clothes, leavin’ black sheets
50 cal have you sprintin’ like an athlete
caught him on the ‘shaw, leave him on a back street
catch me slippin’, p-ssy n-ggas better pack me
i’ll be d-mned if i let a n-gga jack me
dumb as f-ck if you thinkin’ i don’t pack heat
got a fully automatic in the back seat
i’m from 29th, baby, in the back streets
hunnid rounds, you got a problem, that’s a hunnid shots
come and war with me if you can tote a hunnid glocks
i done cooked, sold rock on another block
get you cooked stove top, know that’s sucka hot
come and trap in your spot, n-gga, f-ck a cop
y’all ain’t rockin’ no chops, n-gga, f-ck an opp
‘fore they ask about a witness, b-tch, i did it
i don’t think that y’all get it, b-tch i’m rob vicious

[chorus: allblack & rob vicious]
keep your b-tch on a leash, or tucked in the house
glock in my g-stars for your broke -ss mouth
i got diamonds on my wrist and gold in my mouth
and i’m still with hittin’ l!cks, n-gga, f-ck your couch
keep your b-tch on a leash, or tucked in the house
catch you in traffic, on jehovah, i’m axin’ you out
got a torch at the house for your broke -ss mouth
and i’m still with hittin’ l!cks, n-gga, f-ck your couch

[outro: allblack]
boombox in the gr-ss outside that b-tch window
simpin’ -ss n-gga
armijo hoodie, fake muggin’ with no strap
.38 snub nose with no fire pin, these n-ggas weird as f-ck
rob vicious, thank you for f-ckin’ with me
i go by the name of allblack

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