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All Dat Video (MV)




Performed By: Bobby Brooks
Language: English
Length: 2:54
Written by: Robert Brooks




Bobby Brooks - All Dat Lyrics
Official




She a hood bitch an I like that
Her daddy was a crip I'm like say that
She move from the 60s like way back
Put me on to the game I'll admit that
Eight balls good coke yeah all that
Momma didn't know yeah all that
Hanging late nights getting call backs
Baby throw it back yeah all that
Throw it throw it back on a nigga
You know I'm on mines an i chase 8 figures
Like a 64 hit switches, bust down baby while I count my digits
Pillow talking yeah that's a no no
Always had girls on the low low
I was on shit way before fo fo
I hit middle school rock in South Pole
All the OGs seem to f*ck wit me
Real ass nigga with check the Pedegree
All the struggles I had seem to better me
17, almost caught some Felonise
Aye aye
Servin car to car out the window
Serve an eight ball to your kin folk
Stacks in the bag for the plug bro
Whatever you seen you ain't seen tho
Blowing on Dro, indo, Pop a pill, livin life
Sipn lean, pour it slow
Out in front the store, ima go, kick it with the bro's
Hit a lick on a hoe ass nigga feelin bold
Deep in the party an my bro got the pole
Prolly wit your wife an you know she giving throat
Hanging in the juggles with gorillas and some Zoe's
I like a hood bitch that can really hold her own
She a hood bitch an I like that
Her daddy was a crip I'm like say that
She move from the 60s like way back
Put me on to the game I'll admit that
Eight balls good coke yeah all that
Momma didn't know yeah all that
Hanging late nights getting call backs
Baby throw it back yeah all that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

She a hood bitch an I like that
Her daddy was a crip I'm like say that
She move from the 60s like way back
Put me on to the game I'll admit that
Eight balls good coke yeah all that
Momma didn't know yeah all that
Hanging late nights getting call backs
Baby throw it back yeah all that
Throw it throw it back on a nigga
You know I'm on mines an i chase 8 figures
Like a 64 hit switches, bust down baby while I count my digits
Pillow talking yeah that's a no no
Always had girls on the low low
I was on shit way before fo fo
I hit middle school rock in South Pole
All the OGs seem to f*ck wit me
Real ass nigga with check the Pedegree
All the struggles I had seem to better me
17, almost caught some Felonise
Aye aye
Servin car to car out the window
Serve an eight ball to your kin folk
Stacks in the bag for the plug bro
Whatever you seen you ain't seen tho
Blowing on Dro, indo, Pop a pill, livin life
Sipn lean, pour it slow
Out in front the store, ima go, kick it with the bro's
Hit a lick on a hoe ass nigga feelin bold
Deep in the party an my bro got the pole
Prolly wit your wife an you know she giving throat
Hanging in the juggles with gorillas and some Zoe's
I like a hood bitch that can really hold her own
She a hood bitch an I like that
Her daddy was a crip I'm like say that
She move from the 60s like way back
Put me on to the game I'll admit that
Eight balls good coke yeah all that
Momma didn't know yeah all that
Hanging late nights getting call backs
Baby throw it back yeah all that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Robert Brooks
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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