Из альбома: From Roaches to Rollies
(Verse)
I look like em, I talk em,
I dress like em, I smoke like em
Drive cars like em, fuck hoes like em
Fuck niggas don’t really like em
Ball hard like I sike em
Recruitin goons, shoot good like em
Boojy nigga, you ain’t really like em
Bad bitches got one idol
My yacht master this ice though
Play with me then it’s light out
Bad bitch pull the pipe off
Been there, we want pussy power
My side bitch, she Persian
Pussy tight like a virgin
Here long got nails curving
When we heat them all, we splurging
Pulled off, I’m spurring
Five star like Birdman
Six racks, said me an Mike Marcus
I’m ballin Julius Erwin
Black Cadillac’s in suburban’s
Black Cadillac’s in suburban’s
Through traffic they swerving
Black tints in lurkin
(Hook)
No clouds but I rain like that
I just like em, that’s why the crowd like em
Get that style, screamin BSM
Phantom Ghost frightening
We need the cool of psychic
The sniper riffle shootin so long
If you ain’t dead nigga hold on
This molly juice got me so gone
You say you’re right but you’re so wrong
Just like em, I wanted to be with them for so long
Shots fired, man down
They’re bad as hell, hold on
(Verse)
I got albums like em, got hitched like em
I’m a boss like em, rock shows like em
Critic hatin but the fans like em
Broke hoes don’t really like em
Open doors like em, build labels like em
Singin artists like em, got sponsors like em
Own clothing line, own a liquor store with no liquor license
Keep a pistol on me, fuck a gun license
Off the brain, I ain’t even write it
Just like em, I’m street like em
Sleep on me, I’mma good night em, no need for fightin
Expedite him, send him on his way
And supreme call me every day
Fish, you will need a compliment to look like this
OG said you’ve been done being Chris
Snakes in the grass and I’m leanin through the lics
You ain’t talkin money, nigga it’s irrelevant
‘Cus she’s my slut and my bitch elegant
Swag I regained, throwin this in
Fuck you blondies, I did what I mean
Don’t worry bout bitch, don’t worry bout Wayne
Got rich on swag I land
I made you niggas, no offense
(Hook)
No clouds but I rain like that
I just like em, that’s why the crowd like em
Get that style, screamin BSM
Phantom Ghost frightening
We need the cool of psychic
The sniper riffle shootin so long
If you ain’t dead nigga hold on
This molly juice got me so gone
You say you’re right but you’re so wrong
Just like em, I wanted to be with them for so long
Shots fired, man down
They’re bad as hell, hold on