Mob Lyrics – MO3
Singer: MO3
Title: Mob
Mob, mob, ho
Gang (Mob, n#gg#)
(Young Stovall)
Ayy, we cutthroat around here, n#gg# (Real cutthroat, n#gg#)
You might wanna move around (Better move)
Look
O-Okay, this that drop (Huh?)
Not that re-rock, he want clout (Nah)
Make him famous with this Glock (Huh?)
Put his picture at the top (Boom)
Yelling, “f#ck ’em, I got guap” (Ho)
Big old knots (Racks), run or get dropped
She wanna f#ck (Huh?), we in the spot
Big old racks, I count ’em out
Like one (One)
Two (Two, n#gg#)
Three (Three)
Four (Huh? Four)
Five sticks, here they go (Grah, grah, grah)
And I put six in the head, seven days a week, I get that dough (Huh? Huh? Ho)
I poured an eight down in my Fanta, I was tired of pouring fours (Eight, mud, mud)
He said he gangster, but I looked him in his eyes, seen he ain’t ’bout it (Huh? What? Ho)
And I might be new to this rap game, but I ain’t new to these streets (Huh? No, no)
Let a n#gg# try me, put him six feet, yeah, he going deep (What? Six feet, deep)
And I’m authentic as they come, .223’s comin’ out this drum (What? Boom, boom, boom)
Yeah, I come up out them trenches, b#tch, I’m really from the slums (What? Mob, mob)
And boy, I put it on my son, we ain’t doin’ one-on-ones (Nah, mob, mob)
n#gg#s say I ain’t gon’ slide, boy, on my mama, I’ma slide (Huh? Slide, slide)
I’ma have your mama, baby, grandma, sister, brother cryin’ (Damn, huh? They cryin’)
I drank that Henny, turned me up, boy, that sh#t turned me to a dog (Huh? Dog, dog)
And, boy, I filled this Backwood up with zaza, it’s fat like a log (Huh? Foo)
One (One)
Two (Two, n#gg#)
Three (Three)
Four (Huh? Four)
Five sticks, here they go (Grah, grah, grah)
And I put six in the head, seven days a week, I get that dough (Huh? Huh? Ho)
I poured an eight down in my Fanta, I was tired of pouring fours (Eight, mud, mud, MO-motherf#ckin’-3)
Big old chopper strap off in my joggers (What?), who protectin’ 3?
My bodyguard (Yeah), oh, you don’t see this b#tch? This F&N on me (Baow)
Lil’ bro got bodies (What?), he don’t show his face, young n#gg# barely speak (Yeah)
Foogiano (What?) pull up semi-auto (Yeah), that’s on M-O-B (Gang)
.223 (gang), will chop down a tree (Tree), Lil P push his top back (Top back)
Big bankroll (Roll), AP match my teeth (Teeth), VV’s, yeah, I copped that (Bling)
Fly ho (Ho), big old booty freak (Freak), f#ck her, she come right back
Got good throat, damn near took my soul (Yeah), Foo, she need to stop that (Gang)
One (One)
Two (Two, n#gg#)
Three (Three)
Four (Huh? Four)
Five sticks, here they go (Grah, grah, grah)
And I put six in the head, seven days a week, I get that dough (Huh? Huh? Ho)
I poured an eight down in my Fanta, I was tired of pouring fours
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Lyrics MO3 – Mob
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