Roses

Tell whoever's going for my crown
I'm pushing this big ass boulder up a mountain soldering it out
I do the mix and master
Mans moving like the Disco Dancer
I throw the bass snag the big snapper
I had to wrap it in cling
I know I'm late but I had to get the trim
I'm at the mixing desk bagging up the ting
The Stanley in the ringer got me scratching off the VIN
I was drowning man was in the deep end
Now I'm flying out to Paris for the weekend
I'm at my optimal
I'm on a call smoking tropical
I get the Ballon D'Or man is on the ball
So Messi with it
But it still sound real tekkie innit
Don't get it twisted
The tide shifted
I get lifted
I break the bread
I pair the red with the brisket

Sometimes I see myself and wonder
How you get so fly
Baby don't cry
I aint ya normal guy
Dry ya eye
Unattainable untenable
Tower of babel done fell
Shawty called I'm still playing ball
My paper taller than the jail wall
Flakes a yay yeah i rail em all
Ceaseless how i splay the gall
Gold and placqy's how I grace the halls
P raised all a y'allz
I'm on a wetters super-soakin
Sonny Buda smokin
You's a loner doin the most
You on groupon schmoozing
Truth be spoken
Exuberance keep the groupies scoping
You in cycle cah ya energy keep the floozies roped in
I'm eating first class
You eatin arse without the freedom pass
Diamond Geezer all I see is glass deep the class
Class is in session
You at Camelot with half a Benson
I charm the pension of your marge with a lasting friendship



Credits
Writer(s): Pavan Mukhi, Iqbal Singh Sathi, Kartik Sudhera
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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