What I’m Bout lyrics

[Verse 1: Rob $tone]
I pull up on your block, I'm winning when I pop out
I pulled up, bagged a pretty b*tch, ain't even have to hop out
Well damn, I guess I'm hot now, I f*ck it up and rock out
Stuff a knot up in my sock, an extra TEC up when the cops out
Well oh my god
I'm known to shake 'em up when I be slidin' out, I'm trippin'
Catch 'em slippin', pull the Glock out
We all we got, my brothers at the top
We in your pockets, need the guap and all the b*tches in your contacts
And don't stop that, baby throw that wop yeah
Do it how I like it, I'ma hit it when it bounce back
All white Lam looking like a light flash
Diamonds on me dancing, got me looking like I'm lightskinned
I look like damn, b*tches looking like damn
Who the f*ck is that, it's young Rob, Gucci'ed Louis'ed down
I spent a bag on a b*tch then went to f*ck her friend
All around the world I get the bag then run through again

[Chorus: Rob $tone]
Pipe down n*gga, pity and you pout n*gga
Yeah yeah, I'm getting litty in your town n*gga
What I'm 'bout n*gga, titties, Henny, big amounts n*gga
Yeah yeah, I'm in your city making rounds n*gga
What I'm 'bout, hit the Grammy then I shout, yeah yeah
I hit the b*tch then kick 'em out n*gga
What I'm 'bout, this is really what I'm 'bout n*gga
Yeah yeah, I hit the city make it bounce
[Verse 2: J Davi$]
It's a vibe, b*tch give me the light
Ho get out my face lil b*tch, you know you ain't my type
I'm a shot caller, feel like Ben Baller
Twenty-four karats, you ain't even got a dollar
Feel like Stone Cold, you lil n*ggas bold
Try and run up on me, leave your lil ass in the cold
I'm the f*ckin' man, you n*ggas some chins
Need a hundred f*ckin' million, f*ckin' hundred f*ckin' grand
Lil b*tch, ayy

[Verse 3: Rob $tone]
b*tch I'm off the sh*t, ayy
sh*t my wrist ache, I whip it 'til my wrist break, ayy
When I'm dippin' I'ma switch lanes
Out on Biscayne, where the b*tches give brain, ayy
I'm the sh*t but never look stank
Eating big rings, sauce up on my big ranks, ayy
Man these groupie b*tches insane
Don't make 'em give names, I'm balling out like King James

[Chorus: Rob $tone]
Pipe down n*gga, pity and you pout n*gga
Yeah yeah, I'm getting litty in your town n*gga
What I'm 'bout n*gga, titties, Henny, big amounts n*gga
Yeah yeah, I'm in your city making rounds n*gga
What I'm 'bout, hit the Grammy then I shout, yeah yeah
I hit the b*tch then kick 'em out n*gga
What I'm 'bout, this is really what I'm 'bout n*gga
Yeah yeah, I hit the city make it bounce