RME - Pedal on the Floor (feat. Dapo, SuperflyMich & Merc)

Ayo
Yeah, yeah
I’m rolling down the freeway like I never really gave a fuck
Pedal on the floor, like the smoke detector just went off
Cops can’t catch em, he ‘gone hit the dash like usian bolt
I’m running point, so I know I can pick and pop the one
Told I’m dope, and they can tell I know it
I’m the coldest, frozen, when I step inside it
When I walk in building get this chillin’ feelin’
I’m rawest artist, and I know they feel it
Y’all some children, I can kiss your forehead
Team come thru better give us, four head
These drugs got me thinkin’ shawty come with 4 heads
Only time I call is for head
Really out here, I don’t lose focus
When I step in the booth, got em going oh shit
Ah shit, top tier, look who is below him
Y’all suck dick, so please don’t blow it
Came thru did a whole lot at 20
Lot of dudes 40 can’t take nun’ from me
Lotta dudes younger still look up to me
Funny how they act when you making some money
Money making king, put that shit up on my mama
Need them commas, bitch on everything
Ain’t givin’ hoes no wedding ring
Your bitch she playin’ wit a boss
She should know that she is special ‘cause all my hoes come straight abroad
Petty crime nigga, playin’ with them cards, committin’ fraud
Real shit this don’t get applaud
Why you fucking with them niggas, keep you flawed
Lookin’ for some better things
Eyes open, slow motion
What we promoting, downloading, uploading, just keeps us floating
Talkin’ all that shit, pussy nigga we keep gloatin’
Let you see what we copin’ just when a nigga postin’
And you know my coup, way to fast, and you niggas getting roasted
Like the coffee in the pot
808 Kickin’ way to hard feeling Travis Scott
Bitch I been rapping so long and I will never stop
Almost 30 like I’m Danny and I’m still gonna pop
Flexin’ all these lil bitches yeah you know I love these thots
Roll another blunt, come and see wassup
King and a Devil sacrificing royal blood
Smokin’ on gas and I get that bag
See the diamonds dance when I spend my rack
Can’t kill me I wear that flak
In the fast lane and I won’t mack
Full medal jacket, in Paris just to whack it
Baby throw that ass like the daughter of Mick Jagger
And I just say my piece I don’t even try to flaughter
She lick up on the tip like it made of cookie batter
I want that gold medal chain, hangin’ from the stem of grain
We don’t talk to any lames, watch with the big face
Just to tell my time of day
You can tell my type of timing just from the things I say, yeah

Written by:
Antonio Ford, Charles Mercurio, Dylan Daponte

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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