lirik lagu roadrunner glockboyz tez - yeah
[intro]
(okay, jones)
glockboyz, n~gga
come on, ayy
[verse 1]
ain’t sayin’ die from no opp, you ain’t die from no opp
woo did, couldn’t get it back in blood ’cause they locked that n~gga up
n~ggas out here rappin’ like they popped my n~ggas up
they must be shootin’ in the air ’cause they ain’t never shot at us
all them n~ggas fat as f~ck, i’ma see ’em runnin’ up
it’s 2021, we got these n~ggas cliquin’ up
she said your mail came, i’m finna come and pick it up
striker got seven hundred horses, watch it get up
how ironic, he called his self a dog, but he got bit up
how ironic, he was just alive, now he can’t get up
i see these n~ggas d~ck suckin’ the opps like they did us (alright, bet)
when he try to do a song, boy ain’t sh~t up
if she hold you, run your bag up, then try again
when you get some p~ssy from her, cut her off, f~ck her friend
that’s how the game go (yeah)
this n~gga said he f~cked my b~tch, we got the same hoes
why you showin’ me your gun? we got the same poles
why them n~ggas takin’ pictures with the same roll?
two n~ggas died, they got buried in the same hole
they tryna make a billion bucks, i got the same goal (yeah)
[chorus]
i be everywhere, ain’t no where i can’t go (yeah)
got a pretty face, but your p~ssy stink, though (yeah)
this my real crib, it smell like house of dank, though (yeah)
i’m a soulja boy, but i don’t crank, though (yeah)
i be everywhere, ain’t no where i can’t go (yeah)
got a pretty face, but your p~ssy stink, though (yeah)
this my real crib, it smell like house of dank, though (yeah)
i’m a soulja boy, but i don’t crank, though (come on)
[interlude]
glockboyz, n~gga
you know what the f~ckin’ goin’ on, n~gga
long live my n~gga woo
free the 9
my n~gga tank, he be home too
[chorus]
i be everywhere, ain’t no where i can’t go
got a pretty face, but your p~ssy stink, though
this my real crib, it smell like house of dank, though
i’m a soulja boy, but i don’t crank, though
i be everywhere, ain’t no where i can’t go
got a pretty face, but your p~ssy stink, though
this my real crib, it smell like house of dank, though
i’m a soulja boy, but i don’t crank, though
[outro]
glockboyz, n~gga
(okay, jones)
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