Текст песни 8Ball ft. Young Dolph - Roll Up Poe Up
![Suicide Missions 3](https://39s.musify.club/img/69/4571113/15347426.jpg)
Жанр: | Rap |
Исполнитель: | 8Ball ft. Young Dolph |
Альбом: | Suicide Missions 3 |
Длительность: | 04:56 |
Рейтинг: | 856 |
MP3: | Скачать |
Загрузил: | method_85 |
Текст:
[Bridge x2] My pocket full of them hundreds Finna roll up this weed All my bitches they got bitches And all my weed come with no seeds [Hook] Roll up, roll up, roll up… (This your boy Premro) Poe up, poe up, poe up… (Yeah) Roll up, roll up, roll up… (Premro 2) Poe up, poe up, poe up… [Verse 1 : 8-Ball] Yeaaah ! I’m pulled up with my bad bitch Ice cross, Styrofoam, never plastic Flying through the country like the dukes of hazard My mom & dad weren’t married, guess I’m a fat bastard But hoes love it, but I hate them ho that do too much I don’t wonder this shit 'bout Who you know & who you fuck That’s not my business I’m tryin’ to get acquainted with yo' jaw bone Get yours, get mine Then we can blow some shit on Lionel Richie, all night long Pop a rolling stone Under my hat, that’s my home Deep, never no fake shit come between my lips My nig' Fuck all haters [Bridge x2] [Hook] Roll up, roll up, roll up… Poe up, poe up, poe up… Roll up, roll up, roll up… Poe up, poe up, poe up… [Verse 2 : Young Dolph] My weed come with no seeds My bitch come with no draws Them diamonds ain’t got no flaws And I ain’t no respect for the law Ain’t got no love for these niggas Nigga I don’t wanna talk, talk to my pistol I ain’t got no love for these hoes I ain’t shouldn’t talk about bitch Talk to my dick Yup ! These hoes they make me sick They say I’m with the shit But really I’m not But maybe I am But I don’t give a damn I’m tryin to get my auntie to sign for this lamb Uh ! She jumped to a whole 'nother subject Talkin’ about Where you get 250 grand I said never mind I go and ask my red big booty nurse bitch named Pamelaaa You know what up with me You know I’m in this streets And I kill beats And I’m caked up Fuck boy, don’t play with me That four nickel, that stay with me If you smokin’ beverage get away from me Need a one liter Sprite & some ice 8-Ball I got a tray with me [Bridge x2] [Hook] [Verse 3 : B-Hav] All this killa I got in my swisha It seem like a nigga is all about killin’ himself Way the fire the weed, the higher I get I guess I just chasin’ my death Pour up, some of that potion in my coffee cup Roll up ! Some of that gas Nigga don’t trap Black black black, black on black on black is the Llac Manicured nails, they bumpin' my sack Heard she roll much better than me Waist super-small, ass super-fat Told Siri hate my nigga Ball ‘Cause you know that’s what we finna do Tell my nigga I got them hoes And you know that we finna come through Mr Mud Island Hoes on my jaw I ain’t even sayin’ nothin’ Her mouth on my cock It’s that life that I live From that BAZ Till that ATM Pockets super swell [Bridge x2] [Hook]
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