Rollin (Remix)

(Female voice) (Gunplay)
My dog says we gone be rich one day. Lay it down; don't say a sound, gunplay!
(WAKA)
This for my niggas on the block and hallways.
Ball every Monday through Sunday {Rollin! }
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Every time you see me on the set boy I'm (ROLLIN)
Rims, whips sittin' on them shits boi I'm (ROLLIN)
Snatch a dime nigga wanna rip cause I'm (ROLLIN)
Nigga cause I'm (ROLLIN) nigga cause I'm (ROLLIN)
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My VIPs' trump tight, I see his ace of spades.
5% tint, behind these all black shades.
A young nigga paid, number nine J's.
If you love yo city like me rep where you stay.
(GUNPLAY VERSE 1)
My campaigns in champagne can't slow down my fast lane.
I do my damn thing I'm drunk on that kerosene.
Got birds I'm the pear man, pussy by the cabin.
It's fake? I ain't wearing that. My cake? White as Mayonnaise.
My chopsticks are foldout, the drum hoes' a hold out
Just buss me a lick I had to bond my "lil'woe" out.
Tore down that pussy (yep), left the walls wore out.
A Dade County nigga twist the fro, and let it grow out.
I pop bands and count that, can't turn down my loud pack.
You keep it real in the field? Homeboy I doubt that.
Think you finna bring it here? think twice we bout that.
You ride with me? Shout that. Besides you ain't bout that.
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(WAKA FLOCKA)
I'm drinking ace of spades like a pop soda.
Man I'm balling out rapping ima stock holder.
Cleiko love me like Brooklyn love HOVA. Forest Green rover. Call it Tarzan.
Hell yea I'm sleep walking boy get off them Zan's.
100 grand in my pockets watch me do the money dance.
I'm finna change my name to Benjamin Flocka.
Lord forgive me for my sins, I just killed the beat.
Ostrich on the seats, Pineapple paint, bottles on me. What you want to drink?
Pills on me. Who want the heat? Steal two, I'ma Fucking G (ROLLIN!)
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(Gunplay 2)
Gun on my waist, bun in my lace. Sittin all level squatting on a santé.
Suckers getting sautéed, for getting all brave.
Buyer and supplier, it take's 2 to rob base
Cause the tape on the town, the money on the carpet.
Fish scale looking like I peel't it off a topping.
From white sea to water, that shit get to talking.
One question in that room? That killer get tot talking.
These hoes like a ball man these hoes just for tossing.
These chains, these rings, these things, I'm flossin.
8's, spinning. Banana's peeling. Mouth full, I need a millii. (ROLLIN!)

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Credits
Writer(s): Kasseem Dean, Leor Dimant, Samuel Robert Rivers, John Everett Otto, William Frederick Durst, Wesley Louden Borland
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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