Half You Lames Lyrics

Eighty eight

Head start boppin' like who dat

When Bob rap, oh word

Fire out your faces, is what I'll smack, uh

No weapon form could prosper against me

Take out your squad, start with your bestie, go

Who dare question the man that's spittin'

I'm waitin

I'm still the man, off the dome or written

You kiddin'

I'm one of the best in the bottom

How you tryna compare

Jordan vs Pippen, uh

Half a ton in a trash bag

13 gallons of shake, make one hell of a stash bag

Flash cash, never no need to brag

The weed we had, had a lighter seal the bag

Just to keep it closed, got hoes everywhere I go

I know that they eyeing

Bob stays shinin', so I stays with the iron

Any nigga that stay, he better than me

Tell him stop lying

The 88 around my neck swing heavily

City on my back, competition, they better be ready

For the pain that I'm inflictin' when I

Burrrr, stick up, ha-ha-ha, stick em

Bullets spit out the Rod, the size of Strickland

The way Mz Melz beats bang, the shit's sickening

Whoever on top, just know, your time tickin

I'm back for what's mine, nigga, pay attention

I warned you before, didn't listen when your boy spoke

Everything in fruition, your master track's like Tone Poke

Whoever want smoke, better prepare

Strategical lines drawn, I turn your circles to squares

X marks the spot on whatever I'm aimin' at

On any track I spit on, just know, I'm slayin' that

It's funny how you niggas be sayin' that

Your man nice failin' to mention

I'm the reason they rap

In the bottom of the map, name a nigga that beat me (I'll wait)

Clearly, you can never say that

You must be out your goddamn mind to think that they did

Before I blood splatter your ribs, kill the chit-chatter

Fuck whoever up, man, it don't matter

Come on, man, it ain't for the bait

Down in 88, know my son got next

And on the mic, he bout to drop more bombs than funk flex

As for me, I've been a king and champ

Signed, sealed, and stamped

Somebody must've got you amped

To think you as nice as me

We are not the same

That's why I never do a song with half you lames

But whatever, nigga, keep thinkin' what you want

Don't give a fuck who you are

I don't see no comp

I never had, never will

You niggas wish you was ill

For years, I've been doin' my thing

And I'm still for real

I can't believe that they doubt me

Try to speak my name out loud and mispronounce me

Diss me

And it'll be your funeral

After I shit on you

Piss on your grave and treat the shit like a urinal

Flush you out, without a doubt

It's Bob here, Bob out