Hallucinating lyrics

[Chorus: Robb Bank$]
Ay
I got me a real one and an Blasian on the way (yuh)
You thought that I f*cked yo b*tch – correct assumption, mane (yeah)
I got me a Lebanese and a Chinese thang (ay)
You thought that I flew her out – yeah I put her on the plane (mwah)
Put that di*k in her face, tell 'em
Imma grab her by the waist, tell 'em (yeah)
Take that di*k in her back, tell 'em
I had to count up the racks, tell 'em
Keepin it wrapped up the packs, tell 'em
I had to walk out the trap to sell 'еm (set!)
You young n*ggas going out bad, bail 'em
400 n*gga you had bettеr not bail 'em

[Post Chorus: Robb Bank$]
Fort Lauderdale, Florida, real deal feelin'
Broward County n*ggas bought the building
I'm in east Atlanta, my b*tch from Columbia
Cuz I ain't from Atlanta, call up on Moretta

[Verse 1: Tony Shhnow]
He find out Young Tony f*ckin his b*tch, that pain was excruciatin'
Shawty seen me, thought she found the one – she must be hallucinating
I still got that work like an orientation
Trip on that fur coat and stop all sh*t, I don't need a vacation
I'm good with the plug, we parlay with the ticket
Snakes in the grass and my cellphone Cricket
Finnessing, don't ask me I did it
It tucked in my jeans and I'm pushin' big business
I'm thumbin' blues, you going sad for these b*tches
I go out in the bank and I talk to my twizzy
My shooter awesome ay shot with that glizzy
I'm smokin' on good wit a badass b*tch from the trenches
I'm booked at hard knocks, I had perfect attendance
I cut out Nintendo cuz n*gga be switchin'
You can't be a man cuz you do all that b*tchin'
Versace my eyelid, my side a lil' tinted
My n*ggas ball, we ain't shootin' no scrimmage
You move in my home, you can live where I'm livin'
[Chorus: Robb Bank$]
Ay
I got me a real one and an Blasian on the way (yuh)
You thought that I f*cked yo b*tch – correct assumption, mane (yeah)
I got me a Lebanese and a Chinese thang (muahh)
You thought that I flew her out – yeah I put her on the plane (period)
Put that di*k in her face, tell 'em
Imma grab her by the waist, tell 'em (yeah)
Take that di*k in her back, tell 'em
I had to count up the racks, tell 'em
Keepin it wrapped up the packs, tell 'em
I had to walk out the trap to sell 'em (set!)
You young n*ggas going out bad, bail 'em
400 n*gga you had better not bail 'em

[Verse 2: Robb Bank$]
b*tch I be getting money, even tho a n*gga been hardbody
Met yo gang, n*gga, that's yo' set?
I bet dem n*ggas is pus*y prolly, I swear (b*tch)
They shut down Fridays, I took my talents way to Onyx
I got new b*tch comin' and pull up on me
I can give you that di*k if you gettin money (punk ass b*tch)
They ain't need the combination, these f*ck n*ggas be my inspi-ray-ray-tion (yuh)
Shoot (shoot)
Shoot like Gary Payton (I swear)
I got a thick Thai red b*tch waiting out in Macon (yuh)
White b*tch a Buckhead, better eat it up, better not say nothin'
[Chorus: Robb Bank$]
Ay
I got me a real one and an Blasian on the way (yuh)
You thought that I f*cked yo b*tch – correct assumption, mane (yeah)
I got me a Lebanese and a Chinese thang (muahh)
You thought that I flew her out – yeah I put her on the plane (period)
Put that di*k in her face, tell 'em
Imma grab her by the waist, tell 'em (yeah)
Take that di*k in her back, tell 'em
I had to count up the racks, tell 'em
Keepin it wrapped up the packs, tell 'em
I had to walk out the trap to sell 'em (set!)
You young n*ggas going out bad, bail 'em
400 n*gga you had better not bail 'em