[Intro: Islord]
Ayo, let me tell y'all niggas somethin'
One thing – let me tell y'all niggas somethin'
I don't give a flyin' fuck about none of y'all niggas out here
None of y'all niggas out here
'Cause you ain't – none of my motherfuckin' comrades
I don't give a flyin' fuck, what?
Y'all want it? Bring it son, bring it, son
Bring it, yo, check it on out
[Refrain: Ndira, talking over Islord above]
¿Bobby, como puede ser que me jodistes?
Hijo de puta
Come mi coño de mi, maricon
Y nunca me llamas
Me tratas like an analog ho, Roberto
[Verse 1: Islord, (Timbo King)]
Yo, lyrically, I got all y'all niggas under my wing
'Cause I bring terror throughout this rap era
Like them Muslim cats
Who don't give a fuck about blowin' this rock off the map
Where Mayor Giuliani rest at; so let me get that
Microphone up off of you
'Cause it's definitely not meant for you
To have it in your palm
To try to rock the crowd, puttin' it all on to stay calm
You waited for the god Islord to drop the bomb
And swarm the stage about a hundred fat
With lyrical material that's all that
Like a 2.5 carat clustered jew-el
Rock like Patti La-Belle
'Cause everything is real, kid, dead 'up
Is' Ice the truth, kids gettin' set up
For a car G-heist, it ain't nice
As we ran up in the crib and stuck the kid
And smacked the wife 'cause she had on two chains
With a tray full of ice in 'em
But that's how it goes down
When you livin' in the cold world (Cold world, what?!)
[Chorus: Ndira]
Todo lo que a ti te gustas música – lo puta
[Verse 2: Timbo King]
Yo, I spit flames, thermonuclear type, ignite mics
Blow up U.S.A. satellites
Insane Unabomber, my whole fam laced, golden armor
Royal karma, Black queen Black Madonna
The missing link be the big lips on the Sphinx
Intelligent instincts
I say Knowledge is the foundation
When I move in the L's formation against Hell's nation
Bobby Digital cyber-tech test micro-check
High bias record the levels
Anti- four devils, anti- four devils
[Refrain: Ndira]
¿Bobby, como puede ser que me jodistes?
Hijo de puta
Come mi coño de mi, maricon
Y nunca me llamas
Me tratas like an analog ho, Roberto
Nadie te importa, cariño
I wanna be Digital, Bobby
Bobby Dígital
RZA me advertio de Bobby
Bobby Dígital
[Verse 3: Bobby Digital]
All you analog cats from weak tracks and weak raps
And weak video clips and weak stacks
Weak bitches, with weak lawyers, and weak acts, and weak staff
Born Life couldn't copyright with weak math
Come get a dose of this strong
Coconuts-splittin', all you chocolate deluxe butter alms
French buttercups – probably wanna see Bobby in handcuffs
With your toes in my mouth
Stand up or rape me, rotate auto-locate me
In the center solar, corner block Hip-Hop now expand to the polar
Fuzzy low short frequency
Circuit breakers, try to take – us
On illusionary rides to the future
Rodney Graham graphic, rap actors, flash ya
Cash and jewelry like bus passes
That's why your ass got stuck up
So wake the fuck up, or get smoked
Analog rhymes hoes are like groupies we fucked
Took her for derelict, sales are too soupy
Better get the Bobby Digital movie!
[Chorus: Ndira]
Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés
[Verse 4: Ghostface Killah]
Tarantula, DAT groove seasoned
Newlywed of rap, which G you believe in?
Rollie back-twisted half a man arm off
Late night, Nellie-'Happy' stand-off
I'll bully, blinded by Bobby cross-thieving van diva
Lever 2000 mic talk, might bolt to M*A*S*H
Pinch me in the Eve, carved perfectly from God
Manufactured through the eye, King Goomba dash
Eyes stares Dewmar, Nicolas "half-a-face" Cage
Have a cooked duck, sprinkle sage
Bounce to Huey crib, yo, and got laid
Straight off the ground y'all – word up!
…Bad kids!
[Verse 5: Jamie Sommers]
Yo, yo, yo – Montero dashed sports black
Yo... my nigga Diggs will leave you whiplashed, feel the cash
Pussy worth the key a stash, bloodbath
Hard to walk the righteous path
Flavorful like kiss-of-death berry, touch of ginger
Ushy mad tender
Analogs surrender off my motherfuckin' splendor
Jamie Sommers pussy bionic, supersonic
Splash you with the Wu-Wear garments for the '9-fuckin'-9
Motherfuckers
[Chorus: Ndira]
Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés
Todo lo que te gusta es música para las putés... putés... putés...
[Outro: Ndira]
Bobby, all you ever want is weed, money, music, and pussy