Grabba

Dusty Locane, Ron Suno

(Okay, Kino, I see you) (Draco) Ron Suno, niggas know the fuckin' vibes Gang (Yes) (Boom) This grip it gon' Punch like grabba (uh) Niggas ain't never on nada I need them Bucks like Giannis Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and (yes) I'ma go hop out and Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a strap, strap (nah) So how could I lack, lack, lack? Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a st- (yes) So how can I-? (Gang) They call me Big Suno, never lack I keep a grippy stuffed up in the sack I got this .45 up in the bag Please do not post the live of where you at Niggas gon' hate and talk, but never mind it If I see oppers, tell that bitch to line 'em I cannot fuck if shorty not exotic She got a man and said, "Let's get me naughty" I'm gettin' heavy money than my teachers I sip on Henny, I don't do the liters Told her to rate me on a scale from one through ten Goddamn, I nearly broke the meter I got a bad bitch named Aaliyah She give me top, I'm takin' off her sneakers Oh, that's your friend? Come in, she can join too Like, fuck it, we gon' have a threesome I'm in a big body not a beamer I'm in my prime, like 'Bron playin' Cleveland Said he got pounds, I found a way to seek it She wanna bump my music, but don't leak it I feel like Trey Songz with the steadies Oh, that's your wife? I'm grabbing on her wetty I might just hit and pass her to the lefty She said she love me, I don't let her text me This grip it gon' Punch like grabba (uh) Niggas ain't never on nada I need them Bucks like Giannis Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and (yes) I'ma go hop out and Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a strap, strap (nah) So how could I lack, lack, lack? Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a st- (yes) So how can I-? (Gang) Look Spliff gon' beat now fuck the greaze You a treesh get up on your knee's After this nut, told her to cut (gotta go) Fuck where you go But you gotta leave I ain't have shit pockets was slim Now my suvy's come from overseas (from overseas) Run around two step then he bleed (bleed) Then I send him back overseas My roady go click-clack, let me have it (let me have 'em) Mag empty we aim at his six-pack All my niggas they know to get back You ain't solid break him like a Kit-Kat Yo, Suno? We tough up, backcourt duo Fly to the Yams with a few hoes Lamb' chop Urus, fuck the two doors This grip it gon' Punch like grabba (uh) Niggas ain't never on nada I need them Bucks like Giannis Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (boom) (uh) I'ma go hop out and (yes) I'ma go hop out and Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a strap, strap (nah) So how could I lack, lack, lack? Tell 'em get back, back, back Those were the facts, facts, facts I keep a st- (yes) So how can I-? (Gang)

Written by: Brandon Greene, Daniel Obregon Bueno, Keron Foriest, Lincoln Garvin Roach, Mohamed Saffar, Reginald Miot, Stanley Jean LouisLyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, EMPIRE PUBLISHINGLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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Grabba

Dusty Locane, Ron Suno

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