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lirik lagu rome streetz - piss moët

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[intro]
“did you read every [?]
yeah
good, saves me the trouble

[verse 1]
ayo, all i do is exhale cookies and p~ss moët
count blue benjamin’s, rock low wear, the gold neck
you hoes post no thread, my sh~t jammin like a old tec
crown holdin’ like the logo on the rolex
need presidents to represent like hova in that old lex
copped the work and stretch it like a bowflex
show you how i whip it like a rotest
face the consequence, i was trappеd in that cold cell, locked, feelin’ so stressеd
now when a n~gga bless the mic n0body go next
overdose of dope, keep ten boots in a foe’s chest
came for it all, no less, that’s a fact
went from corners with packs to my raps poppin’ and battle rap
my style is crack, free my scr~pin’ trap for a violent act
when you come home we got the throne, i’ma promise you that
you n~ggas opps, never givin’ you dap
always motherf~ck the other side forever, i thought you knew that

[chorus]
cash rules everything
married to the game, brought the scale to the author with the weddin’ ring
countin’ dirty dough from the sh~t we was measurin’
real n~ggas prosper, f~ck n~ggas’ll never win
cash rules everything
married to the game, brought the scale to the author with the weddin’ ring
countin’ dirty dough from the sh~t we was measurin’
real n~ggas prosper, f~ck n~ggas’ll never win
[bridge]
“myself, i don’t care ’cause, you know, they gotta catch me”

[verse 2]
ayo
lord like sonny carson
on your audio spewin’ arson
serve anybody like dealers on porsons
joggin’ for n~ggas involved, the evil that man do like charles bronson
they ain’t ya homie if they hate on you when you revolvin’
keep a small circle ’cause n~ggas switch up often
eyes on the judas, st~rdy palm on the lochan
tryna go from ghetto to luxury car parkin’
we stack money, never spend it stupid
if i’m rein’~up a two quadruples what i’m recruitin’
smooth king, everything gucci to the shoe string
they fail ’cause they tell everybody before they do things
got the juice, i got supply wet
low high techs, stylin’ on mics like allen i in ’96
got the jedi mind tricks
work the yoda, top loaded yoppa, smellin’ gun powder odor
streets been cold like a gorilla pimp shoulder
in the after hours servin’ rollers and smokers
i buy drugs ‘fore i blow money at strokers
not trickin’ nor hoes, i rather flip it ten times over
[outro]
biatch!


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