Текст песни OG Bobby Johnson (Remix) - Snoop Dogg , Pusha T , A$AP Ferg , , QUE.
Word
on
the
street
I′m
a
suspect
Hangin'
with
the
killers
in
the
projects
Potato
on
the
barrel
keep
quiet
Catch
a
nigga
slippin′
from
behind
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
I'm
still
hanging
with
them
killers
and
them
convicts
Push
start,
no
key,
don't
need
a
locksmith
Pop
shit,
split
your
top
lift
Chop
sticks,
still
knock
a
nigga
right
up
out
his
rocksmith
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson
- catch
a
nigga
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
bitch
nigga
trait
Better
keep
the
grass
cut,
so
you
can
watch
out
for
the
snakes
Word
on
the
street
I'm
a
suspect
Hangin′
with
the
killers
in
the
projects
Potato
on
the
barrel
keep
quiet
Catch
a
nigga
slippin'
from
behind
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
Jumped
out
of
bed
with
a
bitch
Right
hand
on
my
heat,
left
hand
on
my
dick
Sea
salt,
he
robbed
than
a
motherfucker
OG
Bobby
Johnson?
Nah,
nigga,
never
love
him
OG
LB
City
is
the
town
Run
up,
get
gunned
down
Nigga,
we
don′t
fuck
around
Ask
Ray-Ray,
Jay-Jay
and
Kay-Kay
Shot
a
nigga
in
the
daytime
with
the
AK
Nigga
ain't
even
on
the
run,
get
loose
Turn
stick,
quick
tip,
bang
mine
with
the
deuce,
what
it
do?
All
my
niggas
is
realer
But
Bobby
Johnson
is
a
bonafide
killer
Mama
was
a
ho,
step-daddy
was
a
dealer
Yellow
brick
motherfucking
Pittsburgh
Steeler
Nigga?
nigga,
better
raise
up
Dip
my
stick,
nigga,
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
niggas
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,
nigga
get
cut
down
Real
game,
kill
game
Bobby
Johnson,
that′s
my
motherfucking
real
name,
deuce
Just
got
off
a
call
with
the
homie
Gino
That's
my
manager,
he
be
really
boosting
my
ego
(hello)
Said
"you
crack,
nigga,
and
every
line
is
a
kilo"′
I
said
"stop
playing,
stop
drinking
the
Clicquot"
Stay
out
them
bars,
nigga
But
really
I
could
kill
them
with
these
bars,
nigga
Really
give
them
stars,
nigga
I
chips
on
the
tooth
like
Nas,
nigga
Make
me
spit
cold
verses
too,
all
these
odd
niggas
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
fuck
ya
industry
bitches,
say
I
did
it
Piece
of
pie,
but
industry
bitches
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
Word
on
the
street
I′m
a
suspect
Hangin'
with
the
killers
in
the
projects
Potato
on
the
barrel
keep
quiet
Catch
a
nigga
slippin′
from
behind
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
OG
like
it's
South
Central
Nigga
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
Nigga
only
know
about
a
kilogram
Old
school,
I
could
just
kill
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
ass
suck
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
Niggas
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
nigga
These
niggas'
hoes
like
a
bitch
nigga
Like
the
last
song
on
my
album
Stay
the
fuck
away
from
a
snitch
nigga
Word
on
the
street
I'm
a
suspect
Hangin′
with
the
killers
in
the
projects
Potato
on
the
barrel
keep
quiet
Catch
a
nigga
slippin′
from
behind
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
O.G.
Bobby
Johnson!
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