Booth With RJ

[Intro]
(RJ always tripping, man, RJ always tripping, man)

[Chorus: Sweet T]
In this bitch with RJ, he got me rushing
Baby K in the whip but I ain't no Russian
Shot that bitch with no ears, I damn near got a concussion
I need a rack for a verse, there's no room for discussion
You know I be from the 'burbs, that's why I look like Justin
I'm rough like some buckskin and hard like some tungsten
I learned about conjunctions and all of their functions
Now every time I talk funky, I'm bringing the funds in

[Verse 1: Sweet T]
I never roll my R's but I move P's with ease
Thirty-two in the mag', I'll air it out like some Febreze
I move real lowkey, I never flash my cheese
But if I up the roll on you, it'll bring you to your knees
Whitе as hell with that pole on me but I don't еver ski
You the type to take a flick with your blick but never squeeze
I'm the type to let it fly, something like I'm Veeze
You're the type to listen to a officer when he says freeze
You could never be like me, my cloth is cut a little different
That's why the city loves me even though I got no pigment
I live it firsthand, you imagine it through figments
You'll jump off a bridge if you lived with my commitments

[Chorus: Sweet T]
In this bitch with RJ, he got me rushing
Baby K in the whip but I ain't no Russian
Shot that bitch with no ears, I damn near got a concussion
I need a rack for a verse, there's no room for discussion
You know I be from the 'burbs, that's why I look like Justin
I'm rough like some buckskin and hard like some tungsten
I learned about conjunctions and all of their functions
Now every time I talk funky, I'm bringing the funds in

[Verse 2: Prince Jefe]
In this bitch with RJ, I brought the thunder
Buy my bitch a ass, she ain't get it from her mother
Two Glocks, I bust fast, they coming at each other
See cops, I run fast [?] burn rubber
If it wasn't rap, I be selling butter
ARP, I make it brrap, it sound like it stutter
He ain't never coming back, we done killed yo brother
Hands on, I beat the pack like the Royal Rumble
Fire bomb a nigga spot, in the Caddy but I'm sipping drop
Bitch, I got more dough than yo daddy, you should call me "pops"
I'm cooking dope in Cincinnati till my wrist, it lock
I'll send a bitch to get a addy, put that boy on Fox

[Chorus: Sweet T]
In this bitch with RJ, he got me rushing
Baby K in the whip but I ain't no Russian
Shot that bitch with no ears, I damn near got a concussion
I need a rack for a verse, there's no room for discussion
You know I be from the 'burbs, that's why I look like Justin
I'm rough like some buckskin and hard like some tungsten
I learned about conjunctions and all of their functions
Now every time I talk funky, I'm bringing the funds inv