lyrics
You don't stand a chance as factor
Jabot with matching pants and I'm dapper
Shouts out Lantz that's my cracker
Pimp Game Legend, Call ya girl Vance, I'm a Bagger
No Gudda Gudda
My rhymes always been ludacris, no luva luva
Got your girl bare in my kitchen like Old mother hubbard's cupboard
Motherfucker.
My outfit on Craig Sager
My house sit on eight acres
Who Da Neighbors?
An ex-minneapolis Laker
Now that's paper
Bauce Sauce the pen name
Awesomes the pen game
Lost friends, blame, all costs to get fame
How many rappers in they 20's? Thousands now
I'm the only one you know that bought a house and put 20 thousand down
And I got the certified check to prove it
More responsibilities than you but still acting extra stupid
This 401K music, I suggest that you invest into it.
The Answers Rob, the question is who's the best to do it.
My crew juiced more than Montell is
Asking about this Rob fella, and then act like you not jealous
Those in Goliath's garden trying to throw stones rocks at us
I'm throwed, stoned.... Doc Ellis
Pardon me if my presence can make em sick
After hearing my verses, They yell and then shake their fist
But its evident you are shit, its exceptional when I spit
And telling all those with suggestions to eat a dick
You are not on my level, jack
Saying Rob aint Keroac
That's like pot rappers calling the kettle whack
Beef, I settle that with a certain Savoir faire
I was born this awesome, and homie I know that's not fair
These girls wilding out to see me
If my life were a movie you' be tryin out to be me
Find me in exotic locales my girl lie out in bikinis
Topless, on beach sand the color of Brian Scalabrine
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