Must Be Bobby RZA

Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..
Bo-bby..
Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..
Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby.. Bo-bby..

[RZA]
Psssh. Doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo! {​*Bobby Digital sound*}​
Yo.. Bobby
Yo, yo, RZA Bobby
Yo, yo, RZA Bobby
B-Bobby, yo
Hit the bodega for a 40 ounce son, Garcia Vega
Two bags of chips, and one pack of Now & Laters
Flame tucked down to my nuts, on my last buck
Only thing keep a nigga calm is a good fuck
Loose-leaf cigarettes be dipped in wet
Chicken of the seas get trapped inside my net
With their clothes off, son when the gun goes off
I'm bound to play Napoleon, and blow a nose off -
Your Sphinx; your stumble rap style, your flow's off
Like Kunta, tryin to run with his chopped toes off
Unchallenged sword I yield the storm rider
Clip full of ruffled-tip fast-actin long fire
Four hundred grain cartridge, with steel casin
Those who can't draw the crowd is still tracin
The mic is cast to the floor and shapeshifted
Heavy as the hammer of Thor you can't lift it
So tense, bitch there's no defense
This four-four inch'll make you jump the fence
Right eye squinted; I speak brok-len english
Stumble off the cold four-oh of Olde English Wu brew
Two-two inside the shoe
No describin what this heat, in my jacket could do
I teach, seeds to read, never reach for the weed indeed
Bow down to the great Bob Digi Digi