Rolling Stone
Yeah word is bond
Talk is cheap time to ring the alarm
Up the score we gon take it beyond
Make my day cause its not what you want
Yeah we step on shit
Tell lil baby come suck me no peppermint
So much smoke in the air can't see through the tint
Young Rolling Stone lifestyle
Handsome and pretty my profile
Him
That be the pronouns
Tryna make her a movie and go wild
Tryna hang with the band do it pro style
Baby off of the coke and the rum
Yeah she tryna feel some in her tummy
Nasty hoe even told me she love me
Got a stud on her tongue know she slutty
Took the blunt to the face now I'm plastered
Had to curve her she called me a bastard
Out of papers gon roll me chapter
Finna get me as high as the rafters
Yeah this army fatigue what I'm stepping in
Why your boyfriend so pussy he feminine
Finna feed her this meat like its venison
If you seen this life you would know why I brag a lot
Pop all these tags a lot
I seen the fiends run out of my uncle spot
With all of the ganja copped
The 95 beam pulled up seen the broken locks
The first time I spun the block
Backseat with the tool shit built like a Pitbull
Niggas always tryna fuck up a good mood
We got 3 in the whip like its Iverson
Those apartments you know that we sliding in
In the city protected like Biden is
Tryna chill but these niggas be trying shit
Check the snakes in the grass walking communist
Did him dirty his shirt like a condiment
Numero Uno that boy the top nominate
Dogs like kujo the sicking the opposite
They want that raw shit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Dukes got the drake in the closet
Dropped that boy off no deposit
They want that raw shit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Tryna keep the violence down
Yeah the block been way to hot
Still remember them siren sounds
When they ram shacked through the spot
Now I keep my blinkers wide
Never know who on the watch
Gotta keep this pistol tight
Case a nigga wanna go see god
Tryna keep my head low
But we don't dodge smoke
Niggas wanna talk that rah rah
Now he gotta die slow
Slide on the block no cha cha
Keeping the iron low
Turn that boy to yah yah
Should of locked that back door
Lord why
Why
Why
It gotta be this way
Make a fuck nigga feel this pain
Spin the block till we empty the tank
Yeah
Look up
Is you safe
Is you
Is you
Talk is cheap time to ring the alarm
Up the score we gon take it beyond
Make my day cause its not what you want
Yeah we step on shit
Tell lil baby come suck me no peppermint
So much smoke in the air can't see through the tint
Young Rolling Stone lifestyle
Handsome and pretty my profile
Him
That be the pronouns
Tryna make her a movie and go wild
Tryna hang with the band do it pro style
Baby off of the coke and the rum
Yeah she tryna feel some in her tummy
Nasty hoe even told me she love me
Got a stud on her tongue know she slutty
Took the blunt to the face now I'm plastered
Had to curve her she called me a bastard
Out of papers gon roll me chapter
Finna get me as high as the rafters
Yeah this army fatigue what I'm stepping in
Why your boyfriend so pussy he feminine
Finna feed her this meat like its venison
If you seen this life you would know why I brag a lot
Pop all these tags a lot
I seen the fiends run out of my uncle spot
With all of the ganja copped
The 95 beam pulled up seen the broken locks
The first time I spun the block
Backseat with the tool shit built like a Pitbull
Niggas always tryna fuck up a good mood
We got 3 in the whip like its Iverson
Those apartments you know that we sliding in
In the city protected like Biden is
Tryna chill but these niggas be trying shit
Check the snakes in the grass walking communist
Did him dirty his shirt like a condiment
Numero Uno that boy the top nominate
Dogs like kujo the sicking the opposite
They want that raw shit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Dukes got the drake in the closet
Dropped that boy off no deposit
They want that raw shit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Whoop a nigga ass no moshpit
Tryna keep the violence down
Yeah the block been way to hot
Still remember them siren sounds
When they ram shacked through the spot
Now I keep my blinkers wide
Never know who on the watch
Gotta keep this pistol tight
Case a nigga wanna go see god
Tryna keep my head low
But we don't dodge smoke
Niggas wanna talk that rah rah
Now he gotta die slow
Slide on the block no cha cha
Keeping the iron low
Turn that boy to yah yah
Should of locked that back door
Lord why
Why
Why
It gotta be this way
Make a fuck nigga feel this pain
Spin the block till we empty the tank
Yeah
Look up
Is you safe
Is you
Is you
Credits
Writer(s): Terrance Williams, Kris Stasse
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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