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T-Bo - Who Is That? Lyrics



T-Bo - Who Is That? Lyrics




[talking]
This year I'm telling you brah
I'm ahead of everybody in the industry
Like who is that, but I'm fin to tell y'all
You already know

[T-Bo]
When I drive by, they like who the f*ck's the white guy
In the tight ride, with the tight bitches with the tight thighs
Shining so hard, blinding motherf*ckers at night time
No mo' hustling, I'm paper stacking with these tight rhymes
Everytime I ride, them haters mugging me
Is it the rims or paint, or I'm just so lovely
You can find me right over there, where the thugs be
So if you ever cross me, shit could get ugly
That beat boom-blam, you know my ride has it
Candy paint flip more times, than a acrobatic
Just in case you thinking about, starting some static
I got a bitch that wants to meet you, Nina Ross automatic
Cause this year here, is only the beginning
Candy paint looks like it's dripping, when you see me pull up in it
I don't know the word lose dog, I'm all about winning
Ice grilling when I'm grinning, while my 20's keep on spinning come on

[Hook]
(Who is that)
In a brand new fo' do', candy Cadillac
(Who is that)
In the bed with your bitch, hitting that ass from the back
(Who is that)
In the Benz with the rims, boss bitches in the back
(Who is that)
Coming down truck pound, watch it slam and crack

[T-Bo]
I've been a all week shiner, ain't a damn thing changed
What the year we living in at, the price of cocaine
Kinda hard to drive, when you holding them thangs
And your bitch is in the front seat, giving me brain
I only f*ck bout it bitches, that's off the hook
Infatuated with the way, that the back of they head look
Wanted for f*cking bitches, call me the cookie crook
You don't believe me won't you ask me, how your cookie jar look
Man I can't help it, that I'm so god damn fly
And I caught your bitches eye, when I drove by
And your rims f*cked up, and your paint looks dry
Can't say I blame your bitch, for not wanting to ride
Ain't from Texas, but I'm banging Screw
If you trying to play me close, I'm banging you
Bring your boys with you, and I'll bang them too
And drive off smiling, like it's the thang to do

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




[talking]
This year I'm telling you brah
I'm ahead of everybody in the industry
Like who is that, but I'm fin to tell y'all
You already know

[T-Bo]
When I drive by, they like who the f*ck's the white guy
In the tight ride, with the tight bitches with the tight thighs
Shining so hard, blinding motherf*ckers at night time
No mo' hustling, I'm paper stacking with these tight rhymes
Everytime I ride, them haters mugging me
Is it the rims or paint, or I'm just so lovely
You can find me right over there, where the thugs be
So if you ever cross me, shit could get ugly
That beat boom-blam, you know my ride has it
Candy paint flip more times, than a acrobatic
Just in case you thinking about, starting some static
I got a bitch that wants to meet you, Nina Ross automatic
Cause this year here, is only the beginning
Candy paint looks like it's dripping, when you see me pull up in it
I don't know the word lose dog, I'm all about winning
Ice grilling when I'm grinning, while my 20's keep on spinning come on

[Hook]
(Who is that)
In a brand new fo' do', candy Cadillac
(Who is that)
In the bed with your bitch, hitting that ass from the back
(Who is that)
In the Benz with the rims, boss bitches in the back
(Who is that)
Coming down truck pound, watch it slam and crack

[T-Bo]
I've been a all week shiner, ain't a damn thing changed
What the year we living in at, the price of cocaine
Kinda hard to drive, when you holding them thangs
And your bitch is in the front seat, giving me brain
I only f*ck bout it bitches, that's off the hook
Infatuated with the way, that the back of they head look
Wanted for f*cking bitches, call me the cookie crook
You don't believe me won't you ask me, how your cookie jar look
Man I can't help it, that I'm so god damn fly
And I caught your bitches eye, when I drove by
And your rims f*cked up, and your paint looks dry
Can't say I blame your bitch, for not wanting to ride
Ain't from Texas, but I'm banging Screw
If you trying to play me close, I'm banging you
Bring your boys with you, and I'll bang them too
And drive off smiling, like it's the thang to do

[Hook]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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