Rock N Roll Is Dead

(You think you know me)
Big Daddy Hoffa coming to you here with a
Kimber Team Match II .45, 1911
This baby oughta be nice, right there (Ooh)
Cocked locked and ready to rock!

One, two
High key, uh

Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk, nah, fuck it dawg
Whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road (Uh)
I just ended rock and roll (Uh)
We've been running up the score (Uh)

Turnt your house into a home, uh (Yeah)
I don't fucking roam
All I do is count the cash
Bitch, I'm comin' in your house
Let's get freaky with the strap (Nasty!)
We don't fuck with alt-right
Y'all ain't never been a threat (Right)
If y'all come to Baltimore
We gon' stick 'em for their racks (For their racks, nigga)
We gon' beat them crackers dead
We gon' fuck up on they wife
Take 'em for a ride
More hits, more life
Tight grip on the chopper
That kickback light
Put hands on a blogger
Make 'em beg for his life

Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk, nah, fuck it dawg
Whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road
I just ended rock and roll
We've been running up the score (Hoo!)

I say that pussy's off the richter
No shit, uh, I fucked that bitch (Go back)
I fuck your baby sitter, I hit her
I took her to a show, man, what's the issue (Blat)
I split her, this groovy nigga bangin' on your sister
No kicker, I can't breathe

How many cars does it take
To make this shit an easy race? Yuh (Pussy pop)
Uh, how many cars does it take
To make this fucking pain go awa- (Truth!)

Ooh
Ooh, early

This shit poppin', comin' out the f-
I'm out of options
I'm out of options



Credits
Writer(s): Barrington Hendricks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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