Из альбома: From Roaches to Rollies
By popular demand
In the motherfuckin streets
Big Homie Scream
With Big Homie Flock brind you
Roaches to Rolex
Yall motherfuckers ready?
The trap hot, it’s on fire
Be the rap nigga like a busy bee play
I run my hood, no marathon
Took off for a minute now I’m back on
That bas bigger, my dreads longer
My niggas rhythm, my weed stronger
Smoking that pack, that body builder
Money talks, I don’t fuckin hear you
You ain’t dressed, you ain’t got swag
You a walking label, you a signed artist
Got my own label, fuck these niggas
With they middle fingers
I’mma die rich in the game bangin so it’s fuck the prison
When critics say I ain’t talkin money
I keep 1k, them niggas transform to my old ways
Keep black doors on me like OJ
I’m turnt up off no drugs
You turned down, you getting no love
Love the energy so I’m in the crowd
Actin wild
They know I go hard, bitch I’m good with yall
One phone call, send them killas at you
That speed dial,
Always visit 10 years, at the same time Joey beat his murder trial
Always be the cal, that’s upon the soldiers
Still collecting opinions, I’m a humbled nigga
Never join forces, make my own way
I keep cake, no birthday
Fuckin off they competition
I ain’t lemonade
Follow street laws, don’t litigate
I delegate, you follow
I’m on my own shit, you borrow
Last nigga try to rob me got shot now he sue me for a half a mill
That’s real shit
Big Homie Flock
Squad