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lirik lagu mob shit – joe blow

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[verse 1: young bossi]
in this game it’s chess, not chequers
yo’ ass play with one of us and get put on a stretcher
i’m with the demon time, yeah i’m with the c*ck and blow
disrespect the kid, turn your brains into sloppy joe
i got a forty with a thirty, i’m tryna test it out
sliding through their hood so that i can see what all that mess about
free my n*ggas in the cage doing hard time
i’ma keep this sh*t lit, you know i’m on my hard grind
pick a n*gga off and watch the news
yeah i’m f*cking with them glocks but my favourite’s 762’s
rest in peace to the big homie g field
i’ma keep it a hunnid, this sh*t don’t even seem real
all our whips all black like the president
we be in the studio getting high off medicine
i be really in the field, on the front line
i be in the hood where my n*ggas ducking one time

[verse 2: joe blow]
i could never turn my back on who with me
the first time i heard there’s beef, you could hear the jack rolling with me
i was seventeen, first time i stacked up a fifty
now i’m blowing bags back*to*back in the back of the bentley
from long beach to london, you know i got it locked
copped every phillip plein hoodie till they was outta stock
just knocked something real exotic, got exotic pop
for this ap watch, i coulda got a yacht
it’s blow money, i blow money cause i got a lot
to bring this mob sh*t back, they say i gotta drop
i got a glock clip filled to the tippy
only regret i got in rap is i ain’t get one with nipsey
in my akh days, i used to pour a six in a simply
this mob sh*t is in me, akhs will ride for a fifty
i’m getting cake tucked off and out the way
my name stamped up in this game, that’s the realest out the bay
[verse 3: lil aj]
riding with a fully, put your face on a front line
young blood hit me, hunnid bands on the facetime
catch you n*ggas slipping, bounce out, it’s a shakedown
knock your head off your shoulders for the bread, we don’t play round
sipping on patricia in the trenches, get richer
i’m a fixture in the game, you a n*gga in the middle
told the plug if they cheap a n*gga, i’ll come and get ’em
feel the reaper coming, walk a n*gga down then we drill him
smoking on gobstoppers, the fans tryna knock us
buss down watches, you b*tches know it’s khalas
run and play, triple cross, my young’un a whop
outta town, touch down with britney and bob
get the foreign to the gate, my hoes in the lob
they ain’t going on no dates, they flew in with pot
money counter keep jamming, i’ma hand count it
we let you broke n*ggas hate while them bands popping

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