ROC1 - Staright thru

I'm about to be on some real murder shit, ayy We don't even talk about that shit, though
We just do it
Ayy, make this beat
Listen, nigga, come my way, I'm with it

Hop out the striker, off the bat, boy, I'm pitching
Niggas get out of line, ova tender for these bitches
All I need is 19, take you out like some dentures
Niggas ain't in tune, stay away, we the realest

12 hoppin' out, lot of blicks, hoppin' fences
I ain't doin' shit, hit a jam, get the blick in
Money stays stacked up to the ceiling, I ain't sittin' look
Catch me out here fuckin' off, I'm talkin' racks

Niggas out here floggin' for these hoes in the net
In this town I'm in now, we known to be the best
They say they want the street shit for real, where they at
Their time in the system, my division straight max

Give a fuck about that lil' shit, yeah, it's pronto
Still makin' plays in that pearl, she a Tahoe
Goofy's out here, loose change on the combo
I'm even lookin' crazy on the ticket when I drop, though

15 for the shoe, easy six for the shirt, ho
Bitches on the line, what the fuck I'm on they mind for
Scale steady talkin', plus I'm baggin' up raw
Nigga, big L in Guap, be my dawg

Get lost on resort, then I cruise, you a cap
Ain't worry about shit, turn your block to a disaster
Red tape, red tape, man down, all that matter
I'm fuckin' with convicted felon , nigga, call a pastor

All black, match da hearse, switches, you ain't lastin'
Hop a fiber, split ah nigga, veggie, he a cabbage
Fuck the shiesty bitch, bare face it, we ain't actin'
Niggas do too much, rag rah-energy, I'm matchin'

Silent be the killer, shorty nasty for the camera
She loadin' up blicks, stay dangerous, well mannered
Finesse out da gangway a lot of flames, who the candle
Since you a goat, turn a nigga to a panda

Big Drake's full of plenty bags, like I'm Santa
Scratch that, we'll snatch ya big homie for ransom
Let your homie pop out, no net, and we at him
Your whole entourage pure pussy, we ain't racin'

And y'all only tough off them drugs and drink, niggas fakin'
Middle fingers high, they mad that I made it
All these clips loaded with hot shit, nigga, no potato
Sig saws baby, nines, forties, it's a gun show

Low caught the body had to six for extra FOMO
I'm one of them niggas slept on, you can't rewind it
Couple thousand for the watch, no sun, it'll blind ya
Big L in the cut, no barber, he'll line ya

Gwap, keep a touch, we in the field, he'll linemen
I got the shit out the mud, nigga, don't remind me
I be outside, lil' nigga, shit, it ain't hard to find me
Let's get it

Let's get it
Let's get it

Written by:
Rakim Clay

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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