Real MOBs (feat. Bukshot & Boondox)

Hey yo, Bukshot, here's another track from the Lunes

Trigger finger itchin', my mag's loaded with them goons

Them clowns trippin' but they ain't name-droppin'

I watch they videos and laugh but I'm ready to get shit poppin'

I'm dyin' for the verse, you say my fuckin' name, dawg (My fuckin' name, dawg)

Cock the hammer back and slam it like I was playing Pogs

I'm on my grown man shit and you's a real-life poser

Your rap sheet is a joke and I'm asking a judge for disclosure

Before you grow some fuckin' balls and start some shit, kid

I'm at the top of my mobbin' and I can get your head

Talkin' all that shit about the set you rep

You've never met a real mobster, motherfucker don't make me call Pep

So why you claimin' to be a monster? I'm a beast, clown

Just name the time and the place, The Squad will come to town

I'll scalp your deadhead ass, eat your brains up like pasta

You pussies ain't got shit on real motherfuckin' mobsters

Hey Lunes! Show 'em where the fuck y'all from

With them Louisville Sluggers and the ProMag drums

These goons! Ain't worried where the fuck y'all from

Watch 'em all duck and cover when you show that gun

Let 'em move, bitch, 'cause they hop up out the cutty

With the boomstick, 'bout to get 'em all bloody

Yo Lune Squad! Make them hoes a memory

So they know that they fuckin' with The M-O-B

Don't approach a killer in his prime

Hands stay dirty and not afraid to grind (Not afraid to grind)

Made a living pushing dope beats

That's a long way from selling dope on the streets (Dope on the streets)

Records filthy, still can't get it clean

You gotta understand, for me, The Mob is everything

Came from nothing, built it off of tears

Lost a lot of blood, been doin' this for years (Doin' this for years)

Can't count the wounds in my back

The scars on my chest always remind that

It's a dirty game but somebody gotta do it

It's a minefield here, walk right through it (Right through it)

Had my share of fails, never let it stop me (Stop me)

Big stick in my hand, move softly

Swing on anybody showin' disrespect

M-O-B shit is real! You're about to get checked

Hey Lunes! Show 'em where the fuck y'all from

With them Louisville Sluggers and the ProMag drums

These goons! Ain't worried where the fuck y'all from

Watch 'em all duck and cover when you show that gun

Let 'em move, bitch, 'cause they hop up out the cutty

With the boomstick, 'bout to get 'em all bloody

Yo Lune Squad! Make them hoes a memory

So they know that they fuckin' with The M-O-B

One, two, three and to the four

The Lunes and The Boss are at your motherfuckin' door

And we stoppin' by 'cause we heard you talkin' shit, man (Shit, man)

Drop your ass fuckin' faster than some quicksand (Quicksand)

And we don't give a damn what all these bitches think

Call the cops, they find your head up in the kitchen sink

So just know when your ass gets to steppin'

It's a 187, bitch, you better call a reverend (Call a reverend)

This The Mob, Lunatics, and some real Gs

AK-47 bring a fuckboy to his knees

So go tell your boys The Squad's fuckin' coming

Some real mobsters, bitch, please start something (Please start somethin')

But you ain't worth fuckin' sayin' your name

You is 'bout as useless as the shit you claim

And it ain't no games and it ain't no lies

When we find you, I'ma stick a rusted blade in your fuckin' eye

Hey Lunes! Show 'em where the fuck y'all from

With them Louisville Sluggers and the ProMag drums

These goons! Ain't worried where the fuck y'all from

Watch 'em all duck and cover when you show that gun

Let 'em move, bitch, 'cause they hop up out the cutty

With the boomstick, 'bout to get 'em all bloody

Yo Lune Squad! Make them hoes a memory

So they know that they fuckin' with The M-O-B