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Real Boston Richey - Bubba Man Lyrics



Real Boston Richey - Bubba Man Lyrics
Official




Taliban
Uh, uh, uh, uh

Can't say I'm the man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, I only got love for the Chinaman
Emilio Pucci scarf wrapped 'round my head just like a Taliban
I told my youngin I'ma keep his pockets full, just keep that cutter sprayin'
I told that bitch, "This shit here on the floor, I ain't your other man
And your pussy good, but I'ma keep on cheatin', you don't understand
All these choices that I got, why the f*ck I'ma be your man?
You don't understand, bitch, I'ma pay to f*ck on you and your friend"
I keep on buyin' these whips, Geo say, "You need to go buy some land"
I was just trappin' Bubba, none of this rappin' shit wasn't even my plans
Posted up in the dugout, out there trappin' nicks of weed and sand
I got that type of money that make a faithful bitch go leave her man
I got that type of money, I f*ck her raw, she want me to leave it in
She wouldn't get an abortion, had to shoot a bitch a couple grand
I treat my bitches right, f*ck 'em good and then I tuck 'em in
I don't gotta drop a song again, I'm still gettin' them Bubbas in

Huh, the Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't gotta make a song again, I'm gettin' them Bubbas in
Huh, the Bubba man, nigga, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, but I got love for the Chinaman
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I can't hang with shooters, rather go hang with my Bubba friends
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I could beat your ticket, you just gotta tell me what you payin'

I need a 'vert, the summer comin' in
If you trappin' Bubba and you from Florida, then you bumpin' this
Hit that dope, I whip up Fiji water, the fiends love this shit
Pay my young nigga to swing that cutter, I got handymen
I be on that pimpin' shit 'cause, baby, I'm a ladies' man
Niggas can't even afford to buy a Benz, how you gon' spin a bin?
They do what I say so, Boston, he that f*ckin' man
Huh, give me Peso, bitch, I need a hundred bands

Huh, the Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't gotta make a song again, I'm gettin' them Bubbas in
Huh, the Bubba man, nigga, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, but I got love for the Chinaman
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I can't hang with shooters, rather go hang with my Bubba friends
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I could beat your ticket, you just gotta tell me what you payin'

Uh, I don't hang with shooters, nigga, I'd rather hang with my Bubba friends
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Taliban
Uh, uh, uh, uh

Can't say I'm the man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, I only got love for the Chinaman
Emilio Pucci scarf wrapped 'round my head just like a Taliban
I told my youngin I'ma keep his pockets full, just keep that cutter sprayin'
I told that bitch, "This shit here on the floor, I ain't your other man
And your pussy good, but I'ma keep on cheatin', you don't understand
All these choices that I got, why the f*ck I'ma be your man?
You don't understand, bitch, I'ma pay to f*ck on you and your friend"
I keep on buyin' these whips, Geo say, "You need to go buy some land"
I was just trappin' Bubba, none of this rappin' shit wasn't even my plans
Posted up in the dugout, out there trappin' nicks of weed and sand
I got that type of money that make a faithful bitch go leave her man
I got that type of money, I f*ck her raw, she want me to leave it in
She wouldn't get an abortion, had to shoot a bitch a couple grand
I treat my bitches right, f*ck 'em good and then I tuck 'em in
I don't gotta drop a song again, I'm still gettin' them Bubbas in

Huh, the Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't gotta make a song again, I'm gettin' them Bubbas in
Huh, the Bubba man, nigga, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, but I got love for the Chinaman
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I can't hang with shooters, rather go hang with my Bubba friends
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I could beat your ticket, you just gotta tell me what you payin'

I need a 'vert, the summer comin' in
If you trappin' Bubba and you from Florida, then you bumpin' this
Hit that dope, I whip up Fiji water, the fiends love this shit
Pay my young nigga to swing that cutter, I got handymen
I be on that pimpin' shit 'cause, baby, I'm a ladies' man
Niggas can't even afford to buy a Benz, how you gon' spin a bin?
They do what I say so, Boston, he that f*ckin' man
Huh, give me Peso, bitch, I need a hundred bands

Huh, the Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I don't gotta make a song again, I'm gettin' them Bubbas in
Huh, the Bubba man, nigga, I'm the Bubba man
I don't love a bitch, but I got love for the Chinaman
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I can't hang with shooters, rather go hang with my Bubba friends
Bubba man, bitch, I'm the Bubba man
I could beat your ticket, you just gotta tell me what you payin'

Uh, I don't hang with shooters, nigga, I'd rather hang with my Bubba friends
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Broderick Thompson-Smith, Carlos Walker, Cory Way, Jalen T Foster, Richard Wayne Jr. Sims
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC




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