Combo lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Real Rx
Yeah

[Verse]
I walked in this b*tch booted out my mind
Big-ass stick extend out my side
Auntie hit the work, she said, "Oh my God"
Glock made 'em say woah like Black Rob
My dad was black, sold crack, and robbed
That's the only thing I know about the n*gga
It’s on you how we go about it, n*gga
Up the stick and shoot the throat out a n*gga
I'm smoking a blunt with Lucifer, n*gga
I don't wanna talk, I'm shootin' a n*gga
Rob you smooth out your crucifix, n*gga
I ain't gonna lie, n*gga, I need my meds
Dark thoughts I still see in my head
Clutch the glick while I'm sleepin' to bed
My b*tch mad at me once again
This the third time the barrel hit her head
My teacher thought I was special ed
Now my car cost more than that b*tch car
I make more monеy than that b*tch whole job
I f*ck around and employ her wholе job
I was fresh as f*ck when I went to school, that's why I got F's on my report card
Auntie can't talk good, she got lock jaw
Skip school, played the block to get the rock off
I count money to get my rocks off
They say Papi move like a mob boss
I’m John Gotti, get a n*gga whacked
At the steak house, you'll get knocked off
I sold heroin to buy jeans
Popped sh*t and copped white ones
Dirty east side n*gga came from 'nun
Got that bag, b*tch I'ma stunt
Glick cradlin' by my arm, this b*tch look like my newborn son
Big ass Cuban hold my charm
We got more sticks than Saddam
Up the glick and pistol whip your mom
This sh*t’ll get uglier than Lebron
These n*ggas talk tough like King Von, till they end up like King Von
These n*ggas washed up like Trick Daddy
These n*ggas is junkies, DMX
Glick on the bike, this a BMX
On the interstate, feel like BMF
I never let a pus*y n*gga see me sweat
I walk in this b*tch like Keith Sweat
Big ass chain dangle from my neck
Your b*tch broke her neck to look at my neck
She looked at my neck, wanted to give me neck
She gave me neck and then it broke her neck
It’s a hundred rounds in this f*ckin' drum and I shoot this b*tch till it’s nothing left
Drake beatbox like Doug E. Fresh
In the kitchen I'm the American Chef
Poetic with the Glock, Mos Def
I'm in the kitchen with all white like the Pope
I beat the sh*t out the boy like the Pope
Backslap the girl like the Pope
I ain't have a job, I sold dope
I like Cuban links, not gold ropes
They say Papi walk in this b*tch and do the most
556 made 'em hit the folks
Oh sh*t it’s Pap, there he go
b*tch blink too long, then I'm gone
I’m doin' 120 in a 50 zone
Trunk full of white like Post Malone
I'm drunker than a b*tch like Post Malone
Tat my face like Post Malone
b*tch I'm stoned like Post Malone
Put a b*tch in a trunk like Haitian [?]
These n*ggas gay just like Tupac
n*ggas fake gangstas like Tupac
These n*ggas act gooder than Tupac
You can't be mad cause I'm who you not
I really stuff bands inside a shoebox
I really spun blocks tryna shoot opps
I teach you how to cook and [?]
I beat the pot till it got a speed [?]
These n*ggas washed up like Reeboks
They ain't got the same kind of guns we got
This sh*t gonna get uglier than [?]
My auntie tried to sell me a pair of FILA's
She told me, "Papi, just break me off a dime"
Auntie do unbelievable sh*t all the time
For 3 months she been waitin' on SSI
And every different month she come up with a different lie
She always catch me when I'm high out my mind
With a bullsh*t story and I let her slide
I walk in my b*tch house dead fly
She all like my chicken country fried
Mashed potatoes, mac cheese on the side
When I'm done eatin' get between your thighs
You gotta tell me when it’s something on your mind
I'm a trap n*gga, I can't read your mind
Pop a perc, too much on my mind
Crack a pint then pour a line
Up the stick, its Columbine
Hit you and him, y'all both combined
Walk in this b*tch with one in the head
Glock go off, hit one in your dreads
I did what I did and it is what it is
Wish I could rewind time to do it again