[Hook: Que]
Word on the street I'm a suspect
Hangin' with the killers in the projects
Potato on the barrel keep quiet
Catch a n***a slippin' from behind (boom)
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!

[Verse 1: Que]
I'm still hanging with them killers and them convicts
Push start, no key, don't need a locksmith
Pop shit, split your top lift
Chop sticks, still knock a n***a right up out his rocksmith
O.G. Bobby Johnson - catch a n***a slipping while he joggin'
Tater on the end of the Ruger
Bottom of the stick hangin' out there; Mr. Cooper
Word on the street, your son, he's a thief
Your partner got him stealing radios every week
Told you once jealousy, that's a bitch n***a trait
Better keep the grass cut, so you can watch out for the snakes

[Hook: Que]
Word on the street I'm a suspect
Hangin' with the killers in the projects
Potato on the barrel keep quiet
Catch a n***a slippin' from behind
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
[Verse 2: Snoop Dogg]
Jumped out of bed with a bitch
Right hand on my heat, left hand on my dick
Sea salt, he robbed than a motherfucker
OG Bobby Johnson? Nah, n***a, never love him
OG LB City is the town
Run up, get gunned down
N***a, we don't fuck around
Ask Ray-Ray, Jay-Jay and Kay-Kay
Shot a n***a in the daytime with the AK
N***a ain't even on the run, get loose
Turn stick, quick tip, bang mine with the deuce, what it do?
All my n***as is realer
But Bobby Johnson is a bonafide killer
Mama was a ho, step-daddy was a dealer
Yellow brick motherfucking Pittsburgh Steeler
N***a? N***a better raise up
Dip my stick, n***a, when I blaze up
A's up, K's up
I'm from the dub where the homies say trey's up
I am cripping with the n***as in the projects
Goin' down where the homie sell the bomb at
And don't get caught out of bounds
We get touchdown, shut down, n***a get cut down
Real game, kill game
Bobby Johnson, that's my motherfucking real name, deuce
[Hook: Que]
Word on the street I'm a suspect
Hangin' with the killers in the projects
Potato on the barrel keep quiet
Catch a n***a slippin' from behind
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!

[Verse 3: A$AP Ferg]
Just got off a call with the homie Gino
That's my manager, he be really boosting my ego (hello)
Said "you crack, n***a, and every line is a kilo"'
I said "stop playing, stop drinking the Clicquot"
Stay out them bars, n***a
But really I could kill them with these bars, n***a
Really give them scars, n***a
I chips on the tooth like Nas, n***a
Make me spit cold verses too, all these odd n***as
But 50 my favorite rapper, he got shot
8 bullets like Leroy and then he got hot
I feel bad, I met 'Premo before he got knocked
Cop 4 jackets right out of my pop spot
That Ferg apparel, this life will lay down
Cee-Lo with grown ups stacking a Burrough
I can talk about my life, but that ain't the hour
Rather Shabba Ranks with a skank and skeet in her mouth
My daddy in heaven, I try to keep him smilin'
And take his little brother out to eat Italian
That's my big uncle T Ferg, used to be wildin'
But now he getting rapper money, he should be proud of him
I got a thing for dark skin and big booties
Just got into model girls, some slim cuties
I'll fuck ya industry bitches, say I did it
Piece of pie, but industry bitches really with it
Sha-Shabba Ranks, Sha-Sha-Shabba Ranks
Trying to hop a model chick, probably Tyra Banks
Put the potato on the hammer, let it bang
Cause I'm OG Bobby Johnson, A$AP Mob be the gang
[Hook: Que]
Word on the street I'm a suspect
Hangin' with the killers in the projects
Potato on the barrel keep quiet
Catch a n***a slippin' from behind
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!

[Verse 4: Pusha-T]
OG like it's South Central
N***a had a brick in a rental
Since I ain't dead or in jail from it
Put my life in this instrumental
(OG Bobby Johnson) like I'm straight out of Compton
See my boys in the hood, we a menace, it's a problem
N***a only know about a kilogram
Old school, I could just kill a man
Kids running up to my old school
Get a hundred dollars from the dealer man
I ain't gotta lie in my music
Give you game, teach you how to use it
If he ain't trying to help you come up
Leave his broke ass suck a new dick
My numbers don't lie when the feds taking score
Cellphone in my name, that's it, nothing more
458 in the driveway
N***as can't see me on the highway
Got the house sitting on the water
Pulling up looking like Somali's
I heard one time from a rich n***a
These n***as' hoes like a bitch n***a
Like the last song on my album
Stay the fuck away from a snitch n***a

[Hook: Que]
Word on the street I'm a suspect
Hangin' with the killers in the projects
Potato on the barrel keep quiet
Catch a n***a slippin' from behind
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!
OG Bobby Johnson!