lirik lagu metro marrs & mike dimes - payroll
[intro chorus: metro marrs]
cut a b~tch on my payroll
high in the hills, but i lay low (lay low)
too deep in the gypsy rolls
i ask her, “where you wanna go?” (gypsy rolls)
count bands till my very last breath
till my thumbs fall off, till i can’t no more (can’t no more)
four wheels, all gas, no brakes
till the tank on ‘e’ and we gotta re~up (lay low)
gas got it stuck and the gas gotta come froze
and the gas gotta loss
you’re less than fogged off these drugs (gypsy rolls)
yeah she rollin up a dollar, she tell her friends to holler
we in california (yuh), baddies on the roster (yuh)
[verse 1: metro marrs]
keep me a b~tch and i roll me a spliffy
i come from the poorest part this ain’t fifty
i got that 40 tone, i’m not trenchin’
yeah, you a f~ck n~gga, we can’t kick it
was all in the slums n~gga tryna make it
is she from bermuda or is she jamaican?
i’m having flavors, but i’m not going vacant
i be workin like i’m building a sp~ceship
she said i’m her best, i ain’t tell her to say it
got her ass in the strip, now they got her rakin’
she told me put it everywhere except the ~n~s
shawty a freak, everyday an occasion
over my eyes and she gettin’ naked
roll me a wood, i’m wakin’ and bakin’
top so good it feel like vacation
if she don’t spit it out then i say that she’s taken
[chorus: metro marrs]
cut a b~tch on my payroll
high in the hills, but i lay low (lay low)
too deep in the gypsy rolls
i ask her, “where you wanna go?” (gypsy rolls)
count bands till my very last breath
till my thumbs fall off, till i can’t no more (can’t no more)
four wheels, all gas, no brakes
till the tank on ‘e’ and we gotta re~up (lay low)
gas got it stuck and the gas gotta come froze
and the gas gotta loss
you’re less than fogged off these drugs (gypsy rolls)
yeah she rollin up a dollar, she tell her friends to holler
we in california (yuh), baddies on the roster (yuh)
[verse 2: mike dimes]
really she just want my guap (uh)
she know them boys on the block (uh)
is you gon’ love me or not (uh)? is you gon’ love me a lot?
i drink on whiskey not lean on the rocks
my b~tch so ratchet her purse got a glock
she know i’m hot let me turn it a notch
i need to know if you talked to the opps
’cause i’m getting over this sh~t
she only talk to the kid ’cause i’m rich
i don’t even chase henney while i chase a b~tch
she do alot for the kid (uh), i make her feel like the sh~t (uh)
please let me pose for the fl!ck (uh)
girl i’m too grown for the tricks (uh)
i plan on dying like this (uh)
i made a lot cause of this
[chorus: metro marrs]
cut a b~tch on my payroll
high in the hills, but i lay low (lay low)
too deep in the gypsy rolls
i ask her, “where you wanna go?” (gypsy rolls)
count bands till my very last breath
till my thumbs fall off, till i can’t no more (can’t no more)
four wheels, all gas, no brakes
till the tank on ‘e’ and we gotta re~up (lay low)
gas got it stuck and the gas gotta come froze
and the gas gotta loss
you’re less than fogged off these drugs (gypsy rolls)
yeah she rollin up a dollar, she tell her friends to holler
we in california (yuh), baddies on the roster (yuh)
[outro: metro marrs]
(yuh)
(yuh yuh)
don’t know why these n~ggas not feeling me
(yuh)
(yuh yuh)
this my competition? you kiddin’ me?
(yuh)
(yuh yuh)
this industry not gon’ get ridda me
(yuh yuh)
(i don’t…)
(yuh)
yuh yuh
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