Yung Sinn and 21 Savage - Roll A opp

(How did you know?)
(It's what I always wanted)
(Could never have too many of these)

(TeezyOnTheBoards)
Sinn

Yeah, roll a opp
Ooh, yeah, uh, drop his top
Back up, huh, yeah, we ridin', now we on they block
Frrt, yeah, ha, yeah, automatic Glock
Yeah, we finna burn a hotbox
Yeah, just bust it down, you ain't even gotta set the watch
Yeah, ha, yeah, we got a getaway driver (skrr, skrr, skrr)
Ha, yeah, it wasn't no beat on his vitals (brr, blick)

Yeah, hurr, your bitch givin' me mouthy
I woke up hyper, I ain't drink coffee
Yeah, the spinners with me get rowdy
Attacks, hit a button when the club crowded
Six sticks in a dually truck mounted
Every single spin stay accounted
Bro, pass me the Wock', I'ma down it
Yeah, he mad 'cause his bitch got pounded
Yeah, yeah, watch how I Swiss cheese the party
Yeah, yeah, broomstick hangin' out the forty
Yeah, I'm up top, rollin' up my opps, he get smoked out the Bob Marley
Them bodies'll never be uncharted
Uh, yeah, don't run, yeah, my gun get to dartin'
Yeah, my hood site, walk the strip twenty deep like we fuckin' marchin'
Yeah, yeah, uh, watch how I dance on a sergeant
Lift him up, huh, yeah, yeah, your soul can be pardoned
Huh, yeah

Yeah, roll an opp
Ooh, yeah, uh, drop his top
Back up, huh, yeah, we ridin', now we on they block
Frrt, yeah, ha, yeah, automatic Glock
Yeah, we finna burn a hotbox
Yeah, just bust it down, you ain't even gotta set the watch
Yeah, ha, yeah, we got a getaway driver (skrr, skrr, skrr)
Ha, yeah, it wasn't no beat on his vitals

Yeah (21), whoa (21)
I got a drum on the rifle (21)
My money tall like Eiffel (21)
You ain't no stepper, you let 'em hype you
Shit bag, give his ass a diaper (pussy)
Thirty-five hundred got him gone (yeah)
He got shanked by a lifer (21)
Put your bitch up 'fore I snipe her
You know she a eater, why you wife her?
I put a switch on my Glock
Fight with my bitch, take it out on the opps
Send me the drop, spin a nigga block
Hit him in his top (pussy), pussy
Everybody know what I claim
Last nigga dissed me got left slain
These niggas talk too much, Charlamagne
Million dollar watch, but the shit still plain (on God)
We roll 'em up in a spliffy (21)
Got what's his name hit with the blicky (21)
Wish I could say who I'm smokin', but honestly, nevermind, it got too sticky
(Shh)
My nigga stiff in a jiffy (on God)
She ain't my bitch, she a quickie (on God)
I was gon' pull up on her, but I went, got a room 'cause she start actin' iffy
(21)

Yeah, roll an opp
Ooh, yeah, uh, drop his top
Back up, huh, yeah, we ridin', now we on they block
Frrt, yeah, ha, yeah, automatic Glock
Yeah, we finna burn a hotbox
Yeah, just bust it down, you ain't even gotta set the watch
Yeah, ha, yeah, we got a getaway driver (skrr, skrr, skrr)
Ha, yeah, it wasn't no beat on his vitals

(Me under the table)
(I'm trying, will somebody make her shut up about it)
(Can we settle down, please?)

Written by:
Tierre Stalling, Sheyaa Bin Abraham Joseph

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE DIGITAL MUSIC

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