Pyro Flow - Rock Out

Ugh, damn
God damn lil’ bruh
This shit crazy
Damn
Seein’ you like that earlier, in that casket, that shit really fucked me up
You know I had to make a song about‘cha
Damn, fuck, listen, yea
I told my nigga to be safe, I told my nigga to keep his cool
Told my nigga keep a tool, can’t be out here jus’ lackin’
Pistol packin’, we gon’ hit between his arms wit’ a hammer
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Late at night we pop out, we don’t fight we rock out
Work the block, non stop, we ain’t tryna clock out
Told my nigga all the time, if I got it, you got it fasho’
I had yo’ back jus’ like yo’ spine, and you had mine
All my nigga really wanted, was a whole lotta cho
Jus’ like a baker, he jus’ wanted dough
When it’s beef, I guarantee my nigga uppin’ that score
And when it’s beef, I guarantee my nigga kick in yo’ door
Real hard body, solid ass nigga, he a hunnit’
Up the pole on a lick, and tell a fuck nigga to run it
My lil’ thug, my lil’ gangsta, my lil’ partner forever
How I’m feelin’ right now, this shit won’t ever get better
Rockin out, straight to the grave, you left a legacy
Lotta shit jus’ won’t be the same, until the death of me
Chase ‘em for you, jus’ like some liquor, ‘cause you was there for me
Backwoods, smoked out, eyes low, can’t see
We charge a nigga hella’ fees, tax time, what’cha say
Jitta’bugs, gotta girl, and a boy, he on the way
Yesterday I shed a couple tears for my dawg Ace
Aye, I shed tears for you
I told my nigga to be safe, I told my nigga to keep his cool
Told my nigga keep a tool, can’t be out here jus’ lackin’
Pistol packin’, we gon’ hit between his arms wit’ a hammer
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Late at night we pop out, we don’t fight we rock out
Work the block, non stop, we ain’t tryna clock out
Told my nigga all the time, if I got it, you got it fasho’
I had yo’ back jus’ like yo’ spine, and you had mine
Plenty days, plenty nights, posted at the white sto’
Juggin’ and finessin’, ‘til we pulled up on hoes
They’ll go because they know jus how we rockin’ fasho’
Jus’ get that cho and stack it up, that’s what I told you lil’ bro
Miss my dawg, why you got me sendin’ kites up to heaven
Can’t sleep, can’t eat, late at night I be stressin’
Wish I knew you was in danger, woulda’ slid with a weapon
Slangin’ iron for my niggas, I’m a tutor teachin’ lessons
Try to speak on my lil’ brother, you gon’ need more then a blessin’
Try to diss ‘em in yo’ raps, and that’s yo’ last lil’ session
Smith & Wessons and Rugers, so much passion for pistols
All my niggas’ll shoot’cha, we blow yo’ shit like a whistle
Too official wit’ that missile, we got range like curry
He so chicken, no little, he need to hang up that jersey
Call a play like it’s pressure, we make ‘em beg for mercy
Yea, fuck nigga, you gon’ beg for mercy
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Told my nigga all the time, if I got it, you got it fasho’
Late at night we pop out, we don’t fight we rock out
Told my nigga keep a tool, can’t be out here jus’ lackin’
Bakin’ soda, my lil’ soulja, knock ‘em over, get ‘em right
Told my nigga all the time, if I got it, you got it fasho’
Late at night we pop out, we don’t fight we rock out
Told my nigga keep a tool, can’t be out here jus’ lackin’
Yea
Aye, I hope you get this kite lil’ bruh
Know what it was
CC4L, We Cho Chasers For Life

Written by:
Caleb Givens

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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