MBN Foota - Rollinn Jinn (& YRN Stitch) [Prelude]

(Hell Yea)
(You ain't finna' start it up?)
(Ay we finna' start it up anyways)
Bands out, bands in the truck is a overload
One by one like a episode can't be to direct so they won't know
Told them keep it lowkey when we on go
Generally statin' make sure that you get dough
Take down yo' foe, kick down yo door
Nigga stand on yo' ten toes
These hoes a just eat yo' pockets then go
Record in the booth and my Gucci stay on
I'm still tryna see what these niggas be, nah
They stay on some dick that's what niggas be on
Came in this bitch strong leave out with yo' throne
And you know what it is
And you know we ain't wrong
Sat in the backend felt I waited to long
Bitch!
I'm gone out my body don't know what this is
Fuck rollin' stone bitch I'm Rollinn' Jinn'
Bitch I roll like a can with no canister in
Like a top make em' spin' index fingers over my chin
Touch my palms then I say amen
She tryna do some that won't never help
187, we goin' to hell
Gucci my jacket and Fendi my belt
No I won't lie but won't never help
Concrete beds, hot, cold, cells
Yea we slid on his block and made him we run up off it
Yea that boy tried to run but we slide and we hawked em'
Then we slid to his funeral and pissed on his coffin
I'm smokin' on Za and I can't stop coughin'
I can't fuck with you hoes, yea y'all bitches exhaustin'
And I don't give a fuck like that nigga Stone Cold if you run up on me that's the end of the road
Yo' bitch a lil' freak gave me top in the store
I hang with them killers that's wipin'
I fuck on yo' bitch then I turn to a ghost
Y'all niggas be lame y'all gon' talk through a post
You play with the gang, then we uppin' the score
We got yo' boy gone that's like three in a row
And I'm with all the smoke mom ain't raise no hoe
(Tuh, Yea, Yadigg)
(Shout out foota man, that nigga K Ent too you already know what goin' on)

Written by:
Damreya Wade, Qwanya Dunmore

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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