"GRABBA (REMIX)" lyrics
Ron Suno & DUSTY LOCANE Lyrics
[Ron Suno:]
(Okay, Kino, I see you)
(Draco)
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Ron Suno, niggas know the fuckin' vibes
Niggas ain't never on nada
Gang
Bucks like proper
Look like proper
Niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like—
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the— yes
I'ma go hop out the f—
I'ma go hop out and
Yes
Brrt, boom
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
They call me Big Suno, never lack
I keep a grippy stuffed up in the sack
I got this .45 up in the bag
Please do not post the Live of where you at
Niggas gon' hate and talk, but never mind it
If I see oppers, tell a bitch to line 'em
I cannot fuck if shorty not exotic
She got a man and said, "Let's get me naughty"
I'm gettin' heavy money than my teachers
I sip on Henny, I don't do the liters
Told her to rate me on a scale from one through ten, goddamn, I nearly broke the meter
I got a bad bitch named Aaliyah
She give me top, I'm taking off her sneakers
Oh, that's your friend? Come and she can join too, like, fuck it, we gon' have a threesome
I'm in a big body, not a beamer
I'm in my prime like 'Bron playin' Cleveland
Said he got pounds, I found a way to seek it
She wanna bump my music, but don't leak it
I feel like Trey Songz with the setties
Oh, that's your wife? I'm grabbing on her wetty
I might just hit and pass her to the lefty
She said she love me, I don't let her text me
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
[Dusty Locane:]
Look
Spliffy gon' beat now, five degrees
You a treesh, get up on your knees
After the nut, told her to cut, give a fuck where you go, but you gotta leave
I ain't have shit, pockets was slim, now my suvies come from overseas
Run around, two step, then he bleed
Then I send him back overseas
My Rollie go click-clack, let me have it
MAC empty, we aim at his six pack
All my niggas, they know to get back
You ain't solid, break him like a KitKat
Yo, Suno
We top five, backcourt duo
Fly to the Ms with a few hoes
Lamb chop Urus, fuck a two-door
[Ron Suno:]
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
(Okay, Kino, I see you)
(Draco)
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Ron Suno, niggas know the fuckin' vibes
Niggas ain't never on nada
Gang
Bucks like proper
Look like proper
Niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like—
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the— yes
I'ma go hop out the f—
I'ma go hop out and
Yes
Brrt, boom
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
They call me Big Suno, never lack
I keep a grippy stuffed up in the sack
I got this .45 up in the bag
Please do not post the Live of where you at
Niggas gon' hate and talk, but never mind it
If I see oppers, tell a bitch to line 'em
I cannot fuck if shorty not exotic
She got a man and said, "Let's get me naughty"
I'm gettin' heavy money than my teachers
I sip on Henny, I don't do the liters
Told her to rate me on a scale from one through ten, goddamn, I nearly broke the meter
I got a bad bitch named Aaliyah
She give me top, I'm taking off her sneakers
Oh, that's your friend? Come and she can join too, like, fuck it, we gon' have a threesome
I'm in a big body, not a beamer
I'm in my prime like 'Bron playin' Cleveland
Said he got pounds, I found a way to seek it
She wanna bump my music, but don't leak it
I feel like Trey Songz with the setties
Oh, that's your wife? I'm grabbing on her wetty
I might just hit and pass her to the lefty
She said she love me, I don't let her text me
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
[Dusty Locane:]
Look
Spliffy gon' beat now, five degrees
You a treesh, get up on your knees
After the nut, told her to cut, give a fuck where you go, but you gotta leave
I ain't have shit, pockets was slim, now my suvies come from overseas
Run around, two step, then he bleed
Then I send him back overseas
My Rollie go click-clack, let me have it
MAC empty, we aim at his six pack
All my niggas, they know to get back
You ain't solid, break him like a KitKat
Yo, Suno
We top five, backcourt duo
Fly to the Ms with a few hoes
Lamb chop Urus, fuck a two-door
[Ron Suno:]
This grip, it gon' punch like grabba
Uh, niggas ain't never on nada
I need them bucks like Giannis
Been gettin' rich, I'm on top of the roster
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and flock 'em (Boom)
Uh, I'ma go hop out and—
Yes, I'ma go hop out and—
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a strap, strap
So how could I lack, lack, lack?
Tell 'em get back, back, back
Don't sweat the facts, facts, facts
I keep a st— Yes
So how could I— (Gang)
Writer(s): Keron Foriest, Mohamed Saffar
