Bob and Weave

[Intro: BFB Da Packman]

Okay, let's, let's go, le—

I just wanna speak like some, some real-life facts, you know what I mean?

Some shit I've just been dealin' with

But let's go, look (Blaccmass)

(BNYX)

[Verse 1: BFB Da Packman]

Out here you gotta bob and weave

I knew I was poppin' when a opp said he proud of me

My girl fucked another nigga while we was in love

That's why I don't believe a bitch when she say she down for me

[Verse 2: Zack Fox & BFB Da Packman]

Out here you gotta stick and move

Even as a baby, I was makin' plays in the womb

I sent a women's basketball playеr hella nudes

I don't give a fuck if it was Spirit, bitch, I got flеwed (Yello)

[Verse 3: BFB Da Packman]

It's your dream collab, BFB and Zack Fox

I'm fat funny built, so don't ask me why my crack out (Yello)

She want Ocean Prime, but I took the bitch to Black Rock

My uncle mistreated me, that nigga smokin' crack now (Wow)

When it come to STDs, woo, I'm the mascot (Yello)

I'm off four honey packs, dick harder than a math problem

On Emmett Till grave, it's February, 'bout to act out

For twenty-eight days, have white women suck my black cock (The Lunch Crew Company)

Man, your pockets brittle

Santorini, Greece sneaky link, me and Karen Civil (Yello)

Don't wear condoms, truth be told, I can't even fit them

If Lizzo sold her coochie juice, ah, I wanna buy a swiggle

I need a helping hand

My brother stole my laptop, he back to smokin' meth again

I got a young bitch, she's Soo Yung and I'm Jackie Chan

She gotta bubble bath me 'fore we fuck, bitch, I'm Method Man

[Verse 4: Zack Fox]

I'm the man around town, do your research

I'll fuck this money up 'til my meat hurt

My ten toes so down they underneath Earth

My neck's so cold, my nipples pokin' out my t-shirt (Woo)

Don't let me in your house, I'll be done stole somethin'

This weed I'm smokin' hella quiet like I rolled nothin'

I tried to cook crack once with my slow cousin

Burned my auntie kitchen down 'cause we left the stove runnin' (Yeah, we fucked up)

I'll light a nigga up like a hookah torch

Got a gay shooter with a Ruger in his booty shorts

I be hangin' with my opp's son makin' pillow forts

His baby mama let me re-up with the child support

Niggas talkin' gun shit, but ain't did no slidin' (Not a thing)

I just fucked an old bitch with rheumatoid arthritis (She was old)

I don't fuck with no loud nigga, this OG silent

I can dress my goddamn self, I don't need no stylist (Get the fuck off me)

I ain't fresh? What the hell you mean?

Nigga, I could probably fuck Rihanna in this L.L.Bean (Woo)

Pockets full of them blues, bitch, I'm B.B. King

Forty in my shorts cuddled up with my ding-a-ling (My dick)

Nigga try to make a move, throw them 'bows on 'em (Damn)

I got a glitch on my wrist, bitch, it froze on 'em (Damn)

I treat my guns like my sons, I put clothes on 'em (Damn)

Bitch, if it's up, it stay up like it's no bottom (Damn)

I put my team on my back like a opossum (Damn)

Niggas wanna fight, it ain't no problem (Damn)

Hold your nuts like you Mike, wipe his nose off him (Damn)

Do him like Joe Jackson, beat the right notes out him

[Outro]

(Blaccmass)

(BNYX)