JUNK

Richard Mille up on my wrist, like i'm Odell Beckham
Monsters in my head, I can never catch 'em
Winning in the league like fuckin' Ash Ketchum
This is really Nate cuz Nathan never met him

Stop, drop and roll, bodies on the floor
Stop, drop and roll, got the fire at the door
Stop, drop, and roll everybody know
Tryna make it out alive but I need some more

Spilled ink, spilled milk, all these motherfuckers been talking shit
Got the 'zooka on my lap, you can come and talk to it
Talking bout that face to face, the heavies fall from saving grace
Spanish put them in their place and you ain't left your house in days
Drop and roll when the flame gon' hit
Been so sick of that same old shit
My mind's on levels that you won't get
These other motherfuckers ain't fuck with the kid

Stop, drop and roll, bodies on the floor
Stop, drop and roll, got the fire at the door
Stop, drop, and roll everybody know
Tryna make it out alive but I need some more



Credits
Writer(s): Nathan Scott English
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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