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Talkin' down your own bro, sound like a dork to me Want beef but you snitchin', sound like pork to me Nigga thought that I was lackin', keep a torch with me And I be rockin' with them shooters, they escort for me Police say it's muddy, thirty shells in that whip Wet bab, I could probably sell in that shit Keep on fuckin' with the devil, it be hell in this bitch Keep on actin' like he tough and catch a shell in this bitch Talkin' rich when you broke, that's a bad mouth Follow the next nigga's movese, that's a bad route And every window rolled up, it's attack out And I'll face every fear before I back down Pussy soundin' like the gang, that's a copycat We four deep up in the rentals with all kind of straps And if K-Rod take your bitch then come and buy her back I got them demons in my body, don't know how to act I don't fuck with niggas and I never did And if I hit her from the back I probably touch her rib Side nigga to his bitch, I got better dick And for them niggas wanna diss, I got a longer clip, bitch Rob Vicious, fuckin' niggas' bitches Letras de canciones'Posed to hit her once and now she back 'cause she addicted Niggas talkin' down then we gon' pull up with extensions It's Vicious, I gotta make money and break bitches Robby Vicious got that TEC, he gon' chip somethin' Bullets flyin' out that TEC, watch it rip somethin' Say you sippin' on that Tech, you don't sip nothin' Say you smoke with no rec, come and get some Robby Vicious got that chop, leave you holey Tell the cops you don't know me Hundred round bust you down like a Rollie Hit the ground, you talk down on my homies I'm a dope dealer baby, let me change your life up Goin' thirty off a perc-30 with the pipe tucked Fendi hold the forty, we might take your life bruh Shawty want the winning team, no niggas like us All my niggas want the smoke, no niggas fight us I ain't worried 'bout that bitch, I had to boss my life up Run game on a bitch, game on a bitch Pop a pill then came on a bitch, gang on that bitch Uh, Slimmy motherfuckin' B Red bottom for the cleats, twenty-two up in this gleek Bitch I'm really in these streets, Craft nigga, three C's Thinkin' I was fuckin' for the free, bitch please, uh Been slidin' all night, no sleep Cuffin' on that thot bitch, let the ho be Paid a band plus for this Louis long sleeve All that dissin', six feet is where you niggas gon' be, uh And when I hit your bitch it's from the backend Eight-fifty for the belt, that's why I'm saggin', uh Like Nike I just do it, no practice Niggas want smoke, shit, fuck it, let 'em have it, uh This stick up on my hip but this ain't Madden In the Aston, gettin' head from a ratchet Glock plastic, make your mama pick a casket, uh And if you ain't talkin' bands, ain't no collabing, bitch From Letras Mania