Robb Bank$ - Fine/The Come Down Pt 2 (July) lyrics

[Verse 1: Robb Bank$] Yeah, Yeah, shoutout to them Flatbush f** n***as too Meech is dead too, that little Aladdin lookin' a** n***a f** boy, I told you my sh** right And ho s** my f**ing dick Cause b**h I ain't never been a f**ing lick for sipping drank Cause I serve it for them posers up on the strip And I quit my job so I can rap, ain't have enough sick days for this trip Quit popping jiggas' cause my plug told me if I sell em' I could make brick Copped a cannabis card from the A-A b**h yeah the one in the leotard So me and my trendy b**h gon' get trippy once I get her a** this green card I left some work with my dog in that 7-5-4 Ain't bout' k**ing a p**y n***a since Lansky got roped b**h you still selling weed I'm bout' to start selling clothes And my mind ain't been the same since Miguel ain't make it home And b**h I'm sitting on some bricks why you think I got three piggies in my cribby? And these b**hes going in heat when they peep that Rottweiler Givenchy So on my leper scale I'm weighing grams to put in this Dutch Master You try to be Taylored with them papers, watch them burn faster So you better shotgun or you ain't finna' get your turn after Well I light my blunt with the flame, while n***as gay laughing [Hook] And b**h I'm straight I don't mind cause b**h I'm high, yeah I'm high Take one hit then get fried but b**h I'm fine, yeah I'm fine So pick me up b**h take a photo, ask questions like you trollo And we only breath that octane That's the motto n***a W.O.B.O Screaming W.O.B.O. yeah we blowed, yeah we turnt', yeah we high Look at my eyes b**h I'm fried But I'm still fine, I'm still fine Still finer than your b**h, yeah I'm fine, yeah I'm fine I bet yo b**h wanna ride yeah I'm fine, yeah I'm fine, b**h [Verse 2: Robb Bank$] Got a Range Rover, or a Rolex, or a Timex, or an x5 Or an I.S. and a time piece that ain't worth naming cause you ain't know who it's by And you hate cause I ride slow Full of Tussionex and that lemonade And I Easter pink cause it change colors when you twist mellow yellow all with the drank And I don't even much give a f** I check the months that come on my planner So in spring I'm in Trinidad f**ing b**hes dressed in feathers Still in my black Supreme Thrasher never dress for the weather b**h at all I'm in a limo bumping Rich Hill in the fall Now all I need is Aaliyah and them Tommy jeans overalls up in this b**h So I can spike her Coco Loso with Actavis And I touch off honeyberry in the Everglades, call that a Backwood Left some green giant in that container, could call that canned goods Re-making Kim K exposed but it's finna' star Ashley And G.D.P. on the prescription bottle that's a hashtag b**h I'm in that new S-cla** in Opa-Locka blasting Jodeci Cuban link, Raf Simons, OV where the A supposed to be [Hook] [Outro: Robb Bank$] Lil' b**h Xan with that lean is the combination And her breast augmentation on the 25th is the inspiration Haha, b**h! Where my n***as at, where ya' b**hes at? [Verse 3: Matt Meyer Lansky]