Skilla Baby
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Mike Jack (Feat. G Herbo, Rob49)

Skilla Baby


(MIA JAY C)
Yeah, phew
Mm, mm
Keep all that
Huh?

In L. A. with my nigga Herb, my twin from the 'Raq
I ain't gon' lie, my nigga starvin', he'll sin for his stats
Spent ninety days in the trap, just to leave and catch a hat
Quick to get a nigga robbed with four. 9s
welcome to vulture island
In my hood, they call me Simon, killers do what I say
Every diamond came from Gary, they think this from Eliantte
My wrist on "Get out my way, " my Cuban link on pauvey
I keep a, yeah, I'm not Tay, come get your bitch out my face

Thank God I went legit from street shit and chose rap
Grab a million from the 'Raq, hop on a plane and fly back
Hundred shots go off for free, he died, but he fired back
Thought lil' foenem was from the D
they scratched off in five Scats
I'm in a BP Cadillac, we got double Rs back to back
Switch start glitchin' like it got Tourette's
Switched three bitches, I was off X
I'm gettin' rich, I ain't breakin' a sweat
I just got an ASCAP check
And I bought me a Rolex, that bitch rose like Moet (Yeah)

Stop on cap, you ain't catch no hat
we doin' the dash in Scats, nigga
Fuck your hood, I ain't coppin' pleas, bitch
if it's that, it's that, nigga
I'm with G Herbo in the 'Raq
but I can't lie, it ain't in me
I ain't left with none of these hoes, bitch
take 'em off, I'm dead serious, woo
Huh, I done did more hoes
than Michael Jackson did his shows, nigga
I done sold more 'bows than Ralph Lauren
done sold clothes, nigga
See, here, this ain't come from Johnny, we ain't like niggas
I buy bitches bodies, I'm her bitch-ass boyfriend nightmare

I don't just be sayin' shit, my boy
I'm really rich, for real
When I'm in the field, I keep that whistle on me, Elemental
PTSD from them gunshots, them bitches give me chills
Trap bangin', know I'm for real, cookie sales, Mrs. Fields
Lord knows I can't afford another F, but niggas playin', God
The whole city know what me and cuz do on the yeah side
All we know is Scats, Tracks, Hellcats, Redeyes
My lil' bitch keep blick
she quick to face some shit, Barreleye (Huh?)

On the yeah side, niggas know we be on yeah time, alright
That's my uncle in that kitchen
makin' his hand lock, alright
Boy, you're a mess in that kitchen
make you pass out, alright
Bitch, I love when you come through, have that ass up
Lord, we the reason they buy hearses
we buyin' bitches purses, huh
I know niggas who want it all
but ain't tryna put that work in, huh
Pull up in the turtle, bulletproof'll make
niggas nervous, huh
Bring your friend when you slide through
make this shit a circus, huh
Fuck me right now, girl, come fuck me right now

Ho already know I'm lit
she suckin' dick straight off the flight out, uh
It's her and her friend right now
I wanna see, don't turn the light out
Can't get no sleep and this money keep callin' me
I'm puttin' 'em right out
Lil' bro got locked, sent the kite out
scope on the AR, took the sight out
We got twenty Glocks when we pop out
niggas get killed, what we fightin' 'bout?
With some boss niggas that's locked in who wanna see me win
Fuck nigga walked into that Glock 10, made CNN
I know trapstars sell green and hard, no CPNs
I got five percent on eight cars, can't see me in
And my big cuz, he renegade, he GDK, but he GDN
He EBK, might kill his mans, gotta watch his kin
He don't want no bust down watch, he want the newest Gen
Slide off the strip and let off shots
I'm still gon' hit his hand
Like he discovered Young Buck and fucked up many men
You thought Doe Boy was one of us? We jump out minivans (Uh)

Compositores: Skilla Baby, G Herbo, Rob49 & MIA JAY C

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