Black C - Bobble Heads lyrics

Andre Nickatina - Bobble Heads (ft. Black C) [Verse 1: Black C] Call me a psycho cus I just might go Shoot up ya block cus you're walkin' on a tight-rope Plus I'm off that nitro, yea that's that loud pack We don't smoke bammer so its best that you fall back San Francisco ball cat, you're f**in with a Giant Ya n***as say ya real but the real is ya lyin (???) is what I don't do, real is what I live by f** whatcha goin' through if you're tryna (tempt?) mine Im tryna get mine ballin f** getting by You s**as hatin' cus you fallin' like a zipline While I sip wine with a thick b**h with thick thighs Small waist pretty face, tryna get high She said she like real n***as, no farce But you're b**hmade actin worse than these broads Goin' through they menstral, all up in ya mental Just like a b**h ya keep dick up in ya dental Damn [Hook - Andre Nickatina] It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin All them s**as is crashin', burnin' Money, gone, lookin all old Look at my poker face, I'll never fold co*k, reload, sellout shows Mouse rangs and all thangs , pull out ya gold Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail [Verse 2: Black C] You can hip, hop on the muthaf**in' jock Im an RBL n***a getting money 'round the clock And these b**hes don't stop when it comes to this black n***a In the Bay, I'm a legendary rap figure Plus a cap pealer, homie thats a fat n***a You're not loyal to the soil you's a rat n***a And I'm a real one, the last of a dying breed Im off kush muhf**ah you smoke bammer weed I f** with top notch b**hes in that Prada wear You f** with low budget b**hes with them bobble heads Yea, you n***as strictly sickly For real, you n***as can't get with me And you can believe it or not like Ripleys Ya boy been an underground king like Pimp C Or like Mac Dre, or like Mr. C I go hard on a b**h, no sympathy [Hook: Andre Nickatina] It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin All them s**as is crashin', burnin' Money, gone, lookin all old Look at my poker face, I'll never fold co*k, reload, sellout shows Mouse rangs and all thangs , pull out ya gold Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail [Verse 3: Andre Nickatina] You say oh god cus im givin' you hell Leather jacket, adidas with them shells You can miss me like a stray bullet Gary Coleman on ya a** with a new Qillis Sheeit, God-Khan but I'm still a capo I let the weed hit me while Jimi Hendrix sang Sand Castles I dip through the big pineapple And if you see me real quick its something like an eye sample [Hook: Andre Nickatina] It's the God Khan version, Magic, Ervin All them s**as is crashin', burnin' Money, gone, lookin all old Look at my poker face, I'll never fold co*k, reload, sellout shows Mouse rangs and all thangs , pull out ya gold Don't tell me about it homie, pull out ya hoes Hammer up like Stan Burrell on bail