Song: Dark Days
Artist:  RTB MB
Year: 2020
Viewed: 40 - Published at: 9 years ago

[Intro]
(Ooh, Sav killed it)
Sav (Ayy)
I fuck with you, bro
Okay, ayy

[Verse 1: RTB MB]
I'm in a dark place, dark shades (Hey)
Hundred round in every chop, tell my nigga send 'em at an opp face (Yeah)
Ridin' 'round in a Lambo, tall nigga, so I don't got no car space (Huh?)
12 clock me, we in a car chase (Yeah)
Double-R, can't fit in no park space
Feel like BronBron how I spark plays (Yeah)
Feel like John Wick how I spark K's (Huh?)
Crazy how I still see the light on them dark days
Put him in the water and he shark bait (Shark bait)
Shark bait, yeah (Hey)
Color on the chop same one as the car paint
You be where the sharks ain't
Hit her, now the car stink (Huh?)
Made her walk home, now she dealin' with a heartache (What the fuck?)
We just popped your mans, how you dealin' with that heartbreak? (Yeah)
Hundred rounds dumpin' out the whip, make the park skate (Make the—)
Real Flint nigga, I ain't never had to act tough (Nah)
Claim that she a city girl, I leave her if she act up (Act up)
Niggas always frontin', swear to God y'all need to back up
I be paranoid, bro, just hit me when that bag touch (When that bag touch)
I can't even ride around the city 'less that mag stuffed (Unless that mag tucked)
If I bring a hundred racks of giffies, make a trap jump (Huh?)
Hit her, thought she had one (Huh?), you just want the bag, huh? (Yeah)
40 make me sag, huh, hit her off a 30 'til she callin' me her dad, huh (Yeah)
Eighty inch of white girl, we ridin' with a plasma (Plasma)
Pump her, she got asthma (Asthma)
Dunk it, I'ma slash 'em
Got two bitches cookin', tryna see which one is faster (Dope)
I'ma need it after
Girly got to preachin', she annoyin', so I passed her (Preachin')
Take a bitch to Neimans, she a demon, I'ma smash her
[Verse 2: Nuk]
I don't get into it with my bitches 'cause I know they nuts
Hit the road, I got that power, girl, I call that Buttercup
My hitters, they ain't got into a beam, but watch 'em power up
12 watch us take off in our 'Cats 'cause they can't stop us fleein'
Told them boys, "We really smoke opps, don't bring me Sour Diesel"
Chemistry, he cookin' up that dog, he ain't bring out no beakers
I watch my NBA friends with sixty thousand sittin' in the bleachers
My bitch think she got me in a corner, say she might leave
Trap nigga, but I'm courtside more than Spike Lee
Go up top on a Crip nigga, that's a high C
Get tired of playin' with him, I'ma send the whole bag
How you stiff with me with a silicone ass?
All of my hoes call me Em, I do 'em all shady
Trap nigga, but I got some money like a ballplayer
I'm like an all-stater
We'll never be broke again, but bro'll broad day 'em
Add up them bodies, boy, who really assassins?
Got a Glock with 'bout fifty, don't judge my physical stature
If Embiid wasn't in the league, then I might send him a basket
Talkin' dog, I might send a brick, you gon' have to flip
We both playin' with an orange ball that can get us rich

( RTB MB )
www.ChordsAZ.com

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