Pusha T - OG Bobby Johnson (Remix) lyrics

[Hook: Que] Word on the street I'm a suspect Hangin' with the k**ers in the projects Potato on the barrel keep quiet Catch a n***a slippin' from behind O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson! O.G. Bobby Johnson! [Verse 1: Que] I'm still hanging with them k**ers and them convicts Push start, no key, don't need a locksmith Pop sh**, split your top lift Chop sticks, still knock a n***a right up out his rocksmith O.G. Bobby Johnson - catch a n***a slipping while he joggin' Tater on the end of the Ruger Bottom of the stick hangin' out there; Mr. Cooper Word on the street, your son, he's a thief Your partner got him stealing radios every week Told you once jealousy, that's a b**h n***a trait Better keep the gra** cut, so you can watch out for the snakes [Hook] [Verse 2: Snoop Dogg] Jumped out of bed with a b**h Right hand on my heat, left hand on my dick Sea salt, he robbed than a motherf**er OG Bobby Johnson? Nah, n***a, never love him OG LB City is the town Run up, get gunned down n***a, we don't f** around Ask Ray-Ray, Jay-Jay and Kay-Kay Shot a n***a in the daytime with the AK n***a ain't even on the run, get loose Turn stick, quick tip, bang mine with the deuce, what it do? All my n***as is realer But Bobby Johnson is a bonafide k**er Mama was a ho, step-daddy was a dealer Yellow brick motherf**ing Pittsburgh Steeler n***a? n***a, better raise up Dip my stick, n***a, when I blaze up A's up, K's up I'm from the dub where the homies say trey's up I am cripping with the n***as in the projects Goin' down where the homie sell the bomb at And don't get caught out of bounds We get touchdown, shut down, n***a get cut down Real game, k** game Bobby Johnson, that's my motherf**ing real name, deuce [Hook] [Verse 3: A$AP Ferg] Just got off a call with the homie Gino That's my manager, he be really boosting my ego (hello) Said "you crack, n***a, and every line is a kilo"' I said "stop playing, stop drinking the Clicquot" Stay out them bars, n***a But really I could k** them with these bars, n***a Really give them stars, n***a I chips on the tooth like Nas, n***a Make me spit cold verses too, all these odd n***as But 50 my favorite rapper, he got shot 8 bullets like Leroy and then he got hot I feel bad, I met 'Premo before he got knocked Cop 4 jackets right out of my pop spot That Ferg apparel, this life will lay down Cee-Lo with grown ups stacking a Burrough I can talk about my life, but that ain't the hour Rather Shabba Ranks with a skank and skeet in her mouth My daddy in heaven, I try to keep him smilin' And take his little brother out to eat Italian That's my big uncle T Ferg, used to be wildin' But now he getting rapper money, he should be proud of him I got a thing for dark skin and big booties Just got into model girls, some slim cuties I'll f** ya industry b**hes, say I did it Piece of pie, but industry b**hes really with it Sha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks Trying to hop a model chick, probably Tyra Banks Put the potato on the hammer, let it bang Cause I'm OG Bobby Johnson, A$AP Mob be the gang [Hook] [Verse 4: Pusha T] OG like it's South Central n***a had a brick in a rental Since I ain't dead or in jail from it Put my life in this instrumental (OG Bobby Johnson) like I'm straight out of Compton See my boys in the hood, we a menace, it's a problem n***a only know about a kilogram Old school, I could just k** a man Kids running up to my old school Get a hundred dollars from the dealer man I ain't gotta lie in my music Give you game, teach you how to use it If he ain't trying to help you come up Leave his broke a** s** a new dick My numbers don't lie when the feds taking score Cellphone in my name, that's it, nothing more 458 in the driveway n***as can't see me on the highway Got the house sitting on the water Pulling up looking like Somali's I heard one time from a rich n***a These n***as' hoes like a b**h n***a Like the last song on my album Stay the f** away from a snitch n***a [Hook]