Song Title

Lil' B - James Bond Robber Lyrics

Lil’ B – James Bond Robber Lyrics

Yea, I know that you’re slingin packs
I’m gonna serve a lick and I’m thinkin bout takin that
And I ain’t gon lie, the plug damn near them
Fiendin me the marijuana, shit the game no fun
Rap came with the work man, I came with the gun
He came with the gun but he left in the trunk
Told him chill for a sec, let’s roll up a blunt
God based, I got cash so I know wutchu want
Started talkin bout life, keepin shit up front
Man the lighter, spark this up
Man, this shit good, what the fuck man?
Aye pass it to the boy and he hit that boy good
Purple smoke kush, I urk and lean back
And then I hit him with the bean Jackie lean back
Couple watch the scene at
Now I’m thinkin what the fuck, how I’m gonna do that?
He take that, I guess I’ll be cleaning that
Kick dude up stackin, people still talkin
I move the car, it’s about 1 in the morning
Look, what I started, I guess I’m so heartless
The way I’m door to door, you would think that I’m on it
Let’s get back to the performance, put his body in the car
Put the drugs in mine, drove it a couple miles
I got some shit outside
People waving at me, happy, ain’t even trippin
Parked the car on the street, left in limpin
Like fuck that, catch a cab or something
Gotta walk that trail, where the nearest gas station?
I’m too thirsty, this ’76 – that’s straight for me
No guilt on me cuz the dope was free
Like a priest‘s son asked if he can call me a cab
I left my phone in my car, took the wallet and cash
Pay him dude, now I’m waiting for the cab
Cab driver pull up, I just gave him the cash
Told him go fast and don’t drag
Police pass on the other side, for a homicide
You pass by the car where the body died
Somehow somebody CSI when I was ridin
So we still drivin, getting a lil closer
Police show up, my heart folded, stomach up in my chest
I started sweatin, live camera, drive another stop
Guns pulled on him in the fuckin drop
One thing I ain’t leave was the Mack in our buck
Let them things out the window and I’m sprayin on shots
Cab driver run out, I move up to the front and I ain’t like this shit
And I ain’t never be done
Once may spark the blunt – James Bond the Robber
Smoking that bitch with a motherfuckin choppa