lirik lagu roadrunner glockboyz tez - hollaback
[intro: roadrunner glockboyz tez]
uh
[verse 1: roadrunner glockboyz tez]
dog said it’s on the floor, i pushed up on him like what up?
i know where your brother at, i just packed him in a blunt
my young n~gga bang blood, you could catch him in the cut
n~ggas broke out a year, they had some money for a month
you like a broke toilet, boy, you don’t get no ass
ain’t post a picture since the pandemic with your poor ass
when i slide, i shoot first, i don’t go last
me and g was out here robbin’ sh~t with no mask
if i ain’t in your life no more, then that’s your loss
that jugg worked a year ago, you buyin’ burnt sauce
slid down the wrong block, he should’ve turned off
supreme shirt cover the glock, you ain’t gon’ see me with my shirt off
stop actin’ like you know me, you don’t slide for the guys
it be 10 in the morning when the slide on the 9
n~ggas sayin’ f~ck a job and got fried by 5
and that n~gga had a 9, that’s a 9 to 5
thirsty~ass b~tch, where your water at?
all that d~ck suckin’ sh~t— man
all that d~ck suckin’ sh~t finna make me have a heart attack
after i f~ck, i ain’t gwen stefani, girl, i can’t holler back
[verse 2: glockboyz teejaee & onfully]
ayy
i got fully on that glock, this b~tch’ll holler back for sure
if somebody dyin’, you don’t see me on the ‘gram, i’ll probably score
i quit rappin’ for a month, i’m tryna wipe a n~gga nose
i’m the rapper and the robber and the motherf~ckin’ dope man
i got fully on the glock, this b~tch’ll make a n~gga slow dance
but i got so much f~ckin’ money, i ain’t gon’ lie, i need some more hands
we almost k!lled all of the opps, they made some more friends
that n~gga said he tired of mas, come up to score, then
big pimpin’, i really do it, i make money off my ho friends
n~ggas tellin’ me my brother ain’t on sh~t, then you don’t know red
no cap, i was out of town with a drop, sh~t, i called tez
my n~gga, i be tryna f~ck every b~tch, they all freaks
no cap, when woo died, we slid fifty two weeks (shee)
[verse 3: onfully]
i booked the opps for they funeral, it’s twenty~four seats
f~ck the striker, we ain’t drivin’, we gon’ catch ’em on feet
you need to get your l!ck back, talkin’ ’bout head tap
glock take his soul like a robbery, i been said that
tell your b~tch she can have the money homeless, i done gave back
took her to the room so many times, she think this where i live at
got the drop, put him in the ground where his mans at (shee)
faceshot left his head ringin’, need to stand back
brodie put some cheese on your head ’cause he hate bread
i got on gloves when i’m finna bust like it’s safe s~x
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