album cover
Mob Shit
2
Hip-Hop/Rap
Mob Shit was released on September 4, 2024 by LG Records as a part of the album Mob Shit - Single
album cover
Release DateSeptember 4, 2024
LabelLG Records
LanguageEnglish
Melodicness
Acousticness
Valence
Danceability
Energy
BPM89

Credits

COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Luis García
Luis García
Songwriter

Lyrics

In this game it's chess, not chequers
Yo' ass play with one of us and get put on a stretcher
I'm with the demon time, yeah I'm with the cock and blow
Disrespect the kid, turn your brains into Sloppy Joe
I got a forty with a thirty, I'm tryna test it out
Sliding through their hood so that I can see what all that mess about
Free my **** in the cage doing hard time
I'ma keep this shit lit, you know I'm on my hard grind
Pick a **** off and watch the news
Yeah I'm fucking with them Glocks but my favourite's 762's
Rest in peace to the big homie G Field
I'ma keep it a hunnid, this shit don't even seem real
All our whips all black like the president
We be in the studio getting high off medicine
I be really in the field, on the front line
I be in the hood where my **** ducking one time
I could never turn my back on who with me
The first time I heard there's beef, you could hear the jack rolling with me
I was seventeen, first time I stacked up a fifty
Now I'm blowing bags back-to-back in the back of the Bentley
From Long Beach to London, you know I got it locked
Copped every Phillip Plein hoodie till they was outta stock
Just knocked something real exotic, got exotic pop
For this AP watch, I coulda got a yacht
It's Blow Money, I blow money cause I got a lot
To bring this mob shit back, they say I gotta drop
I got a Glock clip filled to the tippy
Only regret I got in rap is I ain't get one with Nipsey
In my akh days, I used to pour a six in a simply
This mob shit is in me, akhs will ride for a fifty
I'm getting cake tucked off and out the way
My name stamped up in this game, that's the realest out the Bay
Riding with a fully, put your face on a front line
Young blood hit me, hunnid bands on the FaceTime
Catch you **** slipping, bounce out, it's a shakedown
Knock your head off your shoulders for the bread, we don't play round
Sipping on Patricia in the trenches, get richer
I'm a fixture in the game, you a **** in the middle
Told the plug if they cheap a ****, I'll come and get 'em
Feel the Reaper coming, walk a **** down then we drill him
Smoking on Gobstoppers, the fans tryna knock us
Buss down watches, you bitches know it's khalas
Run and play, triple cross, my young'un a whop
Outta town, touch down with Britney and Bob
Get the foreign to the gate, my hoes in the lob
They ain't going on no dates, they flew in with pot
Money counter keep jamming, I'ma hand count it
We let you broke **** hate while them bands popping
Written by: Luis García
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