Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stole , by - Armand Hammer. Song from the album Rome, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 02.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Backwoodz Studioz
Song language: English
Stole |
| A pyramid so big it can’t fail |
| A rigged casino tryna save the whales |
| Mind a shell |
| Drill, baby, drill, whether to China or hell |
| Murder rate fallin' and errybody on pills |
| Beef fizzlin' out, rappers not tryna get killed |
| C’est la vie, said the old folks |
| Just goes to show you never can tell |
| You never can tell |
| Let’s keep it real |
| When I told 'em what happened niggas shrugged, like oh well |
| Niggas shrugged, like oh well |
| Whole country out on bail |
| Whole country out on bail |
| Larry with them two bars |
| Each war seemed like the war before |
| It’s a shell game, you followin' cards? |
| Dawg, it’s not about a bodyguard |
| Your A&R never shot his way outta parking garage |
| Now it’s not no A&R, it’s not really nothin' at all |
| Desperation dacin' with the stars |
| See the writing on the wall, nigga it’s writ large |
| They emptied out the vault |
| Nobody thought you ain’t get yours |
| (that's on you man) |
| You ain’t get yours |
| Tell 'em why you mad, they’ll tell you why you poor |
| They got rats in the floor, you better get yours |
| You better get yours |
| Tell 'em why you mad, they’ll tell you why you poor |
| They got rats in the walls, you better get yours |
| You better get yours |
| Tell 'em why you mad, they’ll tell you why you poor |
| They got rats in the floor, you better get yours |
| You better get yours |
| Tell 'em why you mad, they’ll tell you why you poor |
| They got rats in the walls, you better get yours |
| You better get yours |
| Build the black futures who gon' show up when you need em |
| Sooner than later, errything is four seasonal |
| On the other side of time I grew with my eldest features |
| Bedroom eyes, a green book reader |
| Red-moon sky, leaf-wrap reaper |
| Makiba hao |
| Who say got us a DJ, even they went outta style |
| Rappers runnin' on replay for quite a while |
| Ten toes down, they feet bound |
| Hell’s hounds don’t get me pounds no more |
| Bring snakes to crown your ball |
| Falcons war, my torch lit |
| Pop the cork |
| A force of reckonin' |
| Recollect to where my effort went |
| Deviously decadent |
| Omniscient, so benevolent |
| Quit your meddlin' |
| Rode a pestle grinding down base element |
| Formula configuring so delicate |
| Whether this, flowin' of the skids, sling hammer |
| you out and get back to Wakanda |
| Drowsy river rafter |
| tie my hand |
| Shuffling tarot |
| Battle like, dreaming of blanco langosta |
| When wasn’t it for the culture? |
| Vulture been out babblin' bullshit |
| Lash for the bullwhip |
| This a fool’s gip |
| Don’t you move, bitch |