Rollin

Comin' up as youngsta
Watchin' the OG's in the hood flossin' in they rides
Candy paint, chrome wheels, and black magic on the attire
Me, yeah I was lovin' it, but not old enough drive
Parkin' lot pimpin' from the passenger side
I used to walk everywhere I had to show up
Shoe hills, one down like wheel rubber, man I was about to go nuts
Hopefully I would blow up in this rap game man
My people roll swanga's, I wanted to be rollin' the same thang

Never had all of work, but I was doin' what I could
Movin' nickles, dimes, twenty's, and ounces all threw my hood
Since I had that A1 yo all the feens cash me up
Meanwhile thumbin' for a ride my homies pass me up
It's all gravy, when I'm able I'ma show 'em all somethin'
From a hooptie to a Foreign, I'm ballin' it's all or nothin'
Treat my feet with' Designer kicks, I sleep in the finest home
Only place you catch me walkin' is to my mailbox
In the streets I be on chrome

I'll keep rollin' chrome
I'll keep rollin' chrome
Wood grain is what I'm holdin' on
I'll keep rollin' chrome

Uh, I started out with' a canary yellow Cutlass Supreme on balled tyres
Yeah I know I was out of line but that was all I could find
Or should I say that was all I could purchase for what I had to spend
But at least I had somthin' to go from point A to B and
No more offerin' gas money to get a lift
Besides when you're drivin' it's easier to get a chick
So ain"t no more parkin' lot pimpin' at the club, I'm up in there
Seekin' little mama with thick thighs, I hope she let me in there

Like swimwear, I pull up to the motel, and we'll go in there
Nothin' left to do but commit a sin there
And that was in my hooptie but when I showed up big body with the gloss
All of the boppers was boppin', I just couldn't shake 'em off
Sixteen switches, twenty-two inches, trunk goin' to war
They don't want to lay here with me, they want to lay up with my car
I was lovin' it back then and still love it today
Except I'm not yellow Cutlass no more, I'm 300, blue over gray, on chrome

I'll keep rollin' chrome
I'll keep rollin' chrome
Wood grain is what I'm holdin' on
I'll keep rollin' chrome

Finally I'm in the mix, ridin' twenty-four's or twenty-six
My neck and my wrist lit, without me sellin' a brick
TV's in the roof and the dashboard and I'm watchin' a flick
Rollin' with my pistol in my lap and I'm cockin' it if
I spy somethin' suspicious in my rearview mirror when I'm creepin'
If you plan on jackin' me, I'm planning on leavin' you sleepin'
I be in different vehicles 'cause I'm havin' thangs
The king of the ghetto, entertainment got me havin' change

You can smell it on me, even though I'm quiet
The way I live it be tellin' on me
Don't get it twisted, I'm still a felon homie
Thinkin' you gon' rob me that's a N-O
And when I'm in the N-O I roll with god, 'cause I want Mr. Marcelo
And they be with me when they be in Texas, don't partake it as a spy
Onyx Harlem nights in stores where they drop it like it's hot
So if your tryin' to call me and I don't answer my phone
I can't hear it 'cause my music too loud, I'm bangin' on chrome

I'll keep rollin' chrome (rollin' chrome)
I'll keep rollin' chrome (rollin' chrome)
Wood grain is what I'm holdin' on (holdin' on)
I'll keep rollin' chrome (yeah)

I'll keep rollin' chrome (yes I am)
I'll keep rollin' chrome (I'm rollin' chrome)
Wood grain is what I'm holdin' on (is what I'm holdin on)
I'll keep rollin' chrome (S.U.C.)
(Baby S.U.C.)



Credits
Writer(s): Cory Moore, Joseph Mcvey, Michael Banks
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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