Bomb Lyrics - Singles - Freddie Gibbs

Slammin 

Drugs got me wakin' up in cold sweats 

Sometimes I'm slightly off my rocker, but I'm on deck 

Got 2 and a baby off my bitches student loan check 

She hit my line to get that girl, I call it phone sex 

Robbing like my problems ain't gon catch up to me later 

Bitch I'm mobbing like OG Bobby Johnson, split your potato 

At the table, cooking, shaving and touching base with them basers 

Bet they try to make a play for the yay' as soon as they taste it 

The amazin' black American Gangster, sinister, corner her 

Cuz seeing this nigga shine been annoying me like a muthafucka 

This busta owe me, now he act like he don't know me 

Forty fo' my closest homie, kill cockaroaches like Tony 

Got Montana money 

You bought 100 dipped in fluid, yo, I had to smoke it 

Pupils dilated like silver dollars, now we loc'ing 

Call it devilish how I do bitch 

Fuck these niggas talking, I leave they thoughts on my shoestrings 

What? 

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Rolling 

Pockets all swollen 

Set the record straight, that FNH is what I'm holding 

A busta that we know got 15 'bows, bust it open 

We came bandana'd up, divide it up, now what's the quotient? 

A split with 4 niggas, since I'm a go getter 

I think these suckers pussy, I'ma merk the whole litter 

Told my girl to leave as soon as I hung up the phone with her 

Man, I heard you rob the robbers, look Freddie a cold nigga 

Got an ice maker for a heart, made nigga from the start 

Life is like a movie, all I did was play my fuckin' part 

Cheffing up the crack, the heroin, and the weed a la carte 

I call it Fast Freddie's, I should own a fuckin' restaurant 

Cuz back when I was 12 threw some bells on a scale and I got a pager 

We broke them down and started selling nickels to the neighbors 

Eventually the penitentiary gon' see me later 

Kiss my momma, told her if I die, then it was part of nature 

What? 

Photos 

28 days later we all getting fresh 

Got the heart to die for something, flesh to flesh 

The Lambo, got her outside, it's a stretch 

My bitch half Mexican/Afghan, I'm blessed 

From living tough times with rough lemons, a gorgeous watch 

My team on a dreadful level, yo 

Yeah, we still getting money right 

Long as the sun come out, I'll hold these twenties tight 

Getting fresh, just cooling, my bitch on my dick 

Ba boom yo, you live with your moms, just get a grip 

Clip in my pocket, my rocket 

I think of the Dips, I need Juelz and Jims, with rough licks 

Trips to Africa, shorty tear Saks up 

I'm out in Bombay, rebels here actin' up 

We real, all G, 7500 of us 

Up in the Sprinter bus, fussin' "we need more heat"