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The B Bop Lyrics - Gazing At The Moonlight - Hopsin

Excuse me, are you Hopsin? 

Yeah, why? Who wants to know? 

My mommy doesn't like me listenin to you but could you 

like sing me one of those songs. Like, like one of the cool ones 

Man I got to go man I'm not tryin to sing... 

Pleaseee 

Alright, alright alright 

 

Hey yo it's time to bring the West back, pass me the exlax 

So I can shit on all these niggas when I wreck tracks 

Your flow ain't that ill I think you should adjust that 

Homie I don't mean to be rude to you its just that 

You ain't the first nigga I seen with an attitude 

Up on the mic tryin to explain what the gat'll do 

Your skills won't get you that place up in Malibu 

You better off tryin to go slang with a bag of fruit 

And leave it up to me I got the bubblies 

I'll do in an hour what would take your ass a couple days 

My contacts make the ladies fall in love with me 

He's the joker of rap is what these motherfuckers say 

I'm slightly psychotic and idiotic but modest whenever spotted 

So logically I'm a profit, face it niggas you just suck 

And as far as your game, it ain't never had legs to step up 

 

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It's the B Bop, my baby, song 

Do the B Bop and not be wrong 

Come on 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

oh baby 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

 

Man I'm tired of the ghetto, hope I make it out this place 

Ill niggas running around like an ape up out the cage 

And it ain't about the change, man these things are not the same 

All these killers wanna leave my brain laying on the pave 

And I ain't did nothing, all these little kids cussing 

Learning from their big cousins how to go and get stuck in 

A correctional facility, messing up their liberty 

Acting a fool making unnecessary enemies 

Yes it's very weird to me, I did not get caught in it 

I was into rap, for some reason I love the art of it 

I ain't never drank or smoked becausee I'm smarter than 

That and I didn't want to grow up to be what my father is 

Gotta make a living. Got plans of moving out the hood, not stayin in it 

I hate these cheap apartments, and these vague complaining attendants 

Roaches in the kitchen but I ain't really trippin, I'll be rolling in a minute 

 

It's the B Bop, my baby, song 

Do the B Bop and not be wrong 

Come on 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

oh baby 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

 

On the mic I burn niggas and turn rappers to singers 

I learn that on the day that I confirmed I was the slayer 

I serve packs of these haters my words actually rape em 

And were daddy to save him?? my erge has to be fatal 

Up in this music shit the sky's the limit for rising in it 

Long as I'm consistent and keep on using my eyes as gimmicks 

I'ma be the talk of the town, walking around 

Like "Yes this rap game, I'm the boss of it now" 

 

It's the B Bop, my baby, song 

Do the B Bop and not be wrong 

Come on 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

oh baby 

Shobedibinbang, shobedibinbang, bidung 

oh baby 

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