Tate Kobang - Number 5 lyrics

Published

0 243 0

Tate Kobang - Number 5 lyrics

[Verse 1] With some crip n***as and they love to say “What's cracking?” With some blood n***as and they love to say “What's bracking?” Got up off my a** and had to make some sh** happen Now these motherf**ers more worried ‘bout some fashion Came from the bottom, seeing nothing but the top Everybody saying Tate Kobang ain't gon' pop I drop Bank Rolls and that sh** was s'posed to flop Now I'm in the kitchen cooking up, I'm ‘bout to drop Black shades on, it's the bands and you know Chillin' out in Cali with my motherf**ing bro Riding through the city in that black six four Throwing deuces in the air to the motherf**ing locs Yeah I used to struggle, n***a couldn't afford to eat Now I'm in the A and I got Nitti on the beat Rolling through the bottom with the burner on the seat n***a run up on me, then it's RIP [Hook] Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup [Verse 2] Top let down, blowing smoke to the clouds Police pull us over ‘cause they caught a whiff of loud Standing on the stage, I'm ‘bout to dive in the crowd See a couple snow bunnies tryna f** right now In the hotel, towel underneath the door b**h I got that guap, I done bought the whole floor Somebody baby mama getting f**ed next door I walked up with my iPhone just to press record You a p**y to the bone, I'm a gangster to the core These n***as sleeping on me, let them motherf**ers snore Empty out them clips, man you know I got more I bet one cup of lean will turn you wifey to a who*e Bad white b**h like she came from Jersey Shore Bang bang bang, that's the police at the door They kicked in with they pistols, everybody on the floor They looking for that pack but we don't have no more [Hook] Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup [Verse 3] Chill with all that flexing, stay the f** up out my section Still 100 thousand, please consider that a blessing The way she looking at me you would think she want to talk sh** If she get a lil closer I might f** around and let her Think he mad ‘bout a b**h, I don't want no b**hes messing I'ma worry ‘bout the cheese, and the lettuce, and the dressing If I get her I'ma pick her on sight, it ain't no question If I got it, I'ma pull it on sight, no second guessing [Hook] Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup Five bad hoes and they all tryna f** All tryna f**, all tryna f** Give them b**hes a bottle, let ‘em pour up a cup Pour up a cup, pour up a cup