| Yeah, Million Dollar
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| I was told only do what you afraid to
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| Ya scared niggas?
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| Its power in numbers
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| From Long Beach to South Central
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| From Watts to the bank
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| My nigga Jay Rock
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| I’m sargent slaughter when I hop up on this track dawg
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| You know its armada, paint your whole muhfuckin' town red when my lead hit the
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| tablet
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| And for the jealous (?) workin' my (?) like (?)
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| I’m totally fitted, you collateral damage
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| Anybody who challenge when I’m on can blow up a planet
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| Nuclear warfare when I’m on this beat bitch
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| I’m so hot, eight thousand degree shit
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| Murk yo ass with my trademark
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| Step in yo central turn your studio to a grave yard
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| I go hard you go soft you Barbie, see the pink in your eyes
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| Nothing but a bitch in disguise
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| These dick riders, steady tryna hitch 'em a ride
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| (?) is over, go gitchu a (?)
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| When this beef cocked back might hit you wit five
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| Leave yo brains on display for the news at nine
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| That’s how these Cali boys ride!
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| I does it from (?) new whips
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| Im on money in a new sense, Im a nuisance
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| Ain’t no barricade I kinda left it, where that new set (?)
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| I drift my own (?) and bitch I don’t recruit raps
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| Chase money to catch it we Franklin with (?)
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| Practice on targets at random and ransom receivers
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| Word binding is biblical, and (?)
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| Landmine flow, the Johnny Depp blow as a poet (?)
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| Im goin town on these niggas that been (?) Adam
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| Impossible to touchdown on our when we sac em
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| We sniper decipher (?) summer ignited, we fire
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| Black dots winter mitten (?) now your times up
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| Im west now rancid with extravagant transit
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| Watching (?) get blue bruises to amuse news
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| Channelling wolverine (?) x-men im damaging
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| Playin pathologist to bodies just for the sampling
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| Nigga!
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| I ain’t no gangbang rookie
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| School of Hard Knocks, I ain’t ever play hookie
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| Took (?)
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| Trap hall of fame’ers where the game need to put me
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| So pushy bully bullies in the streets
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| (?) quick to bring a fully to the beat
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| Call that bitch a spoon, they’ll be scoopin yall up
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| If I ever get to empty all this (?)
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| Look yung im a different breed of nigga
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| Hungry, like Birdman don’t feed a nigga
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| I got work so I don’t need the nigga
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| Plus I got arms long as Trevor Ariza’s nigga
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| Act silly, test my Kevin hart
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| We’ll see who get the last laugh you motherfucking Mark
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| Curry, they screamin hurry up and buy
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| They see the old dawg in my motherfuckin eyes
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| Wassup 3x
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| I got a gift with this lyrical style
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| And when I spit you might’ve thought I was a miracle child
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| Murderous verbous (?) spits deliver passes
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| Just like irvin did swervin in a suburban in dat car
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| Full of urban kids
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| Namin dat title alone terrify my rivals
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| I never change like islam entertain the bible
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| The spiritual mythical typical rippin flow
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| That paralyze mcs im leavin em crippled tho
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| Con artist I talk a koofi off of muslim domes
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| Sylvester stallone tell rocky that the king is home
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| When white bitches bad as sharon stone
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| Carryin zones bay area’s own carry the throne
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| Love my block so much man I married my zone
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| I got jazz like jerry and sloan gravedigga
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| Get out my way fore I bury you homes
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| Im so unique theres no comparin the clones
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| I’m gone |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Roll Call, artist - Crooked I. Album song In None We Trust - The Prelude EP, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп