Vulture Island V2 (Explicit) - Rob49/Lil Baby

Lyrics by：Bernard Hubbard/Dominique Armani Jones/Robert Thomas

Yeah

I got erv in this b***h real ninth ward s**t

Vulture island

If you know you know

Yeah you wan' tell somebody business

Tell them how you let me f**k

I don't wanna hear 'bout none of your business

Ain't no glock involved

My mind so f**ked up I see murders chillin' in the park

Talk on the net I'll make my

Vulture go and flat his heart

Real stepper he got six toes he a creature

Project everyday he don't give

No f**ks he tryna lead some

N***as know what happened 'bout 4 9 when he bleed

F**k cuffin' a ho my bro put n***as on the tee

Killing all the rats I'm robbin' all the robbers

I'm a real trapstar from vulture island

Alright don't move wrong in this b***h I'm finna shot some

Alright the way he swing his dreads you think he rasta

Alright the trackhawk start sound like it fire

Alright I'm cheating with my main ho right on side of me

Alright yeah yeah lotta money lotta cars lotta **s

Yeah yeah n***as talkin' take his head clean off

Yeah yeah molly molly yeah yeah molly water

Yeah yeah ** sex yeah yeah f**k me harder

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah

Yeah yeah yeah

Yeah shake that a*s b***h bleed how I bleed

I'm used to puttin' b***hes on they knees n***a

She tryna throw a sign then throw a v alright

You tryna f**k a boss then f**k with me b***h

Alright I'm getting to that cheddar to that cheese n***a

Did a ten piece in the feds like he a chicken

Cover my face after we f**k I don't wanna kiss her

And tell the truth I'm just a product of the trenches

Yeah I spent a thousand on these

Sweats I don't even wanna take them off

I spent a thousand on this p***y

I think I'm gonna f**k her raw

This burberry hoodie cost me a bag yeah yeah

Yeah I put her feelings in my lap n***a

Yeah I'm comin' straight from out the trap n***a

Yeah a piece cost twenty eight

He played this p***y lame

I'm used to I'm used to I'm so tryna dodge a case

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap

It's the remix

I might trip out on my finsta

You can't follow me

This ho a goat her n***a don't

Know she really for the streets

Ain't too much rappin' ain't

No postin that's my type of beef

You already tried this s**t

And died with it that's fine with me alright

Lost it all before and

Went and got it back alright

I got a record deal but

I'm still gettin' active alright

Them young n***as do drill

Inside a stolen trackhawk alright

If you ain't got no cash it's your fault

Real god she get on her knees

I answer all her prayers

He a fraud I can go back to

The block if all else fail

Real sharp big homie been

Taught me how to be a player

New house got an elevator

Come from gamblin' on the stairs

Pack in they done send so

Much money for wham that s**t on backorder

Really on some hunnid ms a

Year s**t I just act normal

Really wanna show 'em how I feel

But I just lay the beat

Young b***h keep a pole but

She don't strip she with the f**kery

A lot of n***as know to keep

It cordial 'cause they can't f**k with me

Youngins on the bottom of the

Gutter I keep a buck on me

Yeah yeah she want me to f**k

Her with no rubber on

Yeah yeah I'ma pay whatever

To get my brother home

Yeah yeah we got all these

Guns it ain't no one of one

Yeah yeah we gon' up here

And n***as don't wanna come

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap

Make that a*s clap