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Rollin
by
Freddie Gibbs
Featuring(s) : Devin The Dude, Killa Kyleon, Starlito & Propain
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I ain't hit that p*ssy in a minute But bitch, I'm right back in it, and I'm Thuggin', f*ck that flavored vodka, I'm smokin' somethin' Hopped out my 'Lac in the 'jects and I left my motor runnin' My ghetto valley, my geeker, he keep my stash spotless And I hid my work in my speakers, I know the task watching Bitch, I'll put the town to rest, drop a hundred pounds and jet They could be pimpin' this pimp But yo, I'm still ducking them alphabets FBI, DEA, stay on my D-I-C-K Probably gon' die a dealer, nigga been hustlin' dope since '98 Banged in a gang since '95, these rappin'-ass niggas ain't no riders All we worship is them dollars, dollars where I reside, yeah I'm just rollin' – really good weed I'm blowin' With my music holdin', make a nigga feel like flowin' When you stop feelin' the cold wind – fifteen minutes of showbiz And I ain't trippin' 'bout where my hoe is Bitches gon' keep bitchin' and these hoes they gon' to roll the 'dro up Pocket full of money and I still feel broke Syrup in my Sprite, my niggas still sell coke I poured my heart in a song, but in this letter I wrote I used discretion and codes, never say never but you never know Down, bad, blowin' good, smoke an ounce a session Used to stretch – just hired an accountant to help me count my blessings Still hate it when a weak man stop me and leave me stressin' I be like “give me a second” just like a reelection Dude smoke that presidential, my bitch f*cked, livin' to do Chop up this pimpin' with her, and as you can guess, she gets screwed Can't kick it like I kick it, like your shoelaces missing Probably Harvey Dent's mistress you two-faced bitches Dance back of that '93 – double cups of that Henry Wade Vogues wrap my 84s, butter seats on my vertebrae Candy paint on my doors, bitch – wood wheel what I hold, bitch Shotgun my new boo, but your new boo is my old bitch Day-Day on my cold wrist, that's Time's Square on my arm, hoe Yellow stones, I talk money, my teeth shine when I yawn, hoe Y'all broke niggas so boring, bro – fly niggas stay soarin', hoe Leanin' good on that Purple Rain, my cup empty, I'm pourin' more It's just a Texas thang – ball like them Jacksons, mane Flosser, I run it – like floss or boss-up, you understand? Still in it, pitchin' underhand But I got the upper, I'm paper touchin' them f*ckin' bands Come heat the alp' with me – candy-coated, yeah that's loud, pretty The shit I'm smokin' got me so high I could tail Piggy Gun cocked, my trunk knock, girl, I jump out Wetter than a jumpshot, true clique alumni Well not actually, I'm a little too young, but I'm 'posed to have been it Askin' me? You ever heard of Big D? Well, I'm the ghost of him My rap's elite, pull over, crash the beat like drivin' on coke and Hen I'm stackin' cheese, no limit like Master P, slow motion like Soulja Slim Gotta get it 'cause we itchin' Rappin' in a language, only trill can comprehend it Violate us, guns we liftin', young nigga out here beastin' 'bout to bring my corner back like real reefers, what's up? [Hook]
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