Rubba Band Business 2 Intro

This ain't a mixtape

Bitch, this a rich tape

Nah, it ain't my birthday, but I got big cake

Give a bitch a shot, she don't wanna miss a big break

Big bank, big frank rollie with the big face

Run up too fast, that'll be a mistake

Glock 17 make a nigga get his shit straight

Chrome to the dome, put the dick in ya' bitch face

Rolls Royce truck, we just call it the big wraith

Hold on hoe, hold on

Bring that shit back

Hold on hoe, hold on hoe

Hold on

Bitch

Three six Bentley on that flow shit

Yo' new shit sound like my old shit

Y'all niggas just like rocks in the ocean

Get the hoes twisted, now they wide open

Told ya', I ain't got time for the bull

My name hold weight

In the street, I got pull

Murdered that pussy, I'm killing ya'll boys

Suicide boys be killing ya'll noise

When it rains it pours

Good dope coming out my pores

Walk in, buy the whole store

'Member I was poor

Oh well, not no more

Get paid, fuck these whores

Used to have to sell that rock

Now, we be rockin' these shows, we all on tours

Ball like I handle that rock

Come to the crib, hit the bitch on woodgrain floors

Do I really got them bands?

(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)

I want you and all your friends

(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)

Can you hop up in this benz?

(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe)

Make you wanna leave your man

(Yeah hoe, yeah hoe, yeah)