| I resemble my people told me get in there
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| So active I turned pro, you bitches thinking it’s skin care
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| It’s been a long time coming so don’t push me
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| My mama say you can be anything in this world except pussy
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| Bad Lucc, this is you meeting the writer
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| You’re lame and that won’t change Nick Cannon meeting Mariah
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| I’ve been killing shit since Dexter was pulling wings of the butterflies
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| And working at church is burning my brother fried, nobody
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| The coop god a cold vile of schizophrenic
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| Don’t panic, it’s cool and my brain is crowded
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| Fighting my demons with bras knuckles and face paint
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| A roofie will get you the kind of pussy that Ace can’t
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| They say I’m sick and deranged but know I’m from the hood
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| The evil easties are watch brand, it’s understood
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| It’s not a lane in our rapping, till I’m in dirt
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| If the police come in stripping the weapons came with the shirt
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| Yeah, Coniyac, gotta get the mind off
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| Only soft when in came forth and still lying see it rot
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| This obstacle is deadly as Jigsaw
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| Knuckle money like getting jaws for a rich cause
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| Talking XO, means exposure with the 50th
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| When chosen clip blow them with the mortar I’m the stiff
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| I can divide and conquer, leave course in the split
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| And I don’t mean Benz when I’m foreign out the whip
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| Yo we call it in collision when the foreign’s out the hit
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| Assumption got his never minds pointing out on bricks
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| Smugs, the worst riot face when I’m pump
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| She want no reminiscence I got new songs for Ginni Young
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| Voice cut won’t protect space in your necklace
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| Acting two face, I’ll get soon 'til they set with me
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| Yeah, a fatal chest blow out of nowhere
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| Heard bars lungs forgot air was s’posed to go there
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| I’m the definition of definition
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| The depth of my deposition is deafening
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| Hit the deck when I deck the bitch
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| In the depths of your desperate mission
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| You a ex musician, stick my extra limb
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| In your ex’s lips like an aesthetician
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| The excellent exhibition of eloquence
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| Executives write me off, my region lacks relevance
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| But that' irrelevant, residence has no precedence
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| Press against my lane and I will aim it at you head and chin
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| But you not a gun clapper, you a fun rapper
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| Some factor out what it’s happening from with some capture
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| If Crooked paved the way then I’m the one after
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| I’m every ghost rider for Dr. Dre and one rapper
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| Paying homage, I vomit on tracks repeatedly
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| Set the stage on rage and make it look Eazy-E
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| That way from my space to a new premises
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| If this the roll call, then call me the new genesis
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| Another monumental montage
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| Like a Molotov luxury
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| Often monolog in this storm is
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| The art in me brought frauds apart
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| I brought gin on my saw shit
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| On to go yard against y’all bitch
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| Will party flow below par
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| Than my arsenium arsenic, y’know I’m more awesome
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| With the narcissistic
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| Bars a nigga me in walls been this marvelous
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| Nobody visited us in, it’s amenes, outside of Dominicks
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| I’m wowed, this outlined incompetence
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| I’ve down sized been down when I out line the apocalypse
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| I got now, I’m back out rhyming the proxemics
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| Poppin' them with the bottles out, after I wanted to cancel it
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| Instead in the club, and my capella should drop an a capela
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| Enough to knock a fella, pockets and pasta paid from above
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| When I drop the penance draft, it’s not no Letterman love
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| We hittin veteran 'till they stop the negligence cause
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| Waddup dawg, this the king, kiss the ring
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| I’m dropping the guillotine so quick you forget to scream
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| While you twitching I’m sipping lean
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| Stronger than the mix between
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| Listerine and Mr. Clean,'til I tap out like pamperine
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| 10 marines, we strapped like that to defend the team
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| That’s for intervene when it’s any scream
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| Listen to me, I’m lighting up squares like smoking nicotine
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| Lighting up squares like a video scene from Billie Jean
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| Listen to me, fuck with the C.O.B. |
| hollows will ring up
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| See all of us inked up, follow us
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| We got bottles and models and pink chucks
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| They callin' us king tut, when they swallow us
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| And all of these means what
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| Means my bank account swallowed a Brinks truck
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| And it means I walk with a mean strut
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| With the Glock in the jeans tucked
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| G’s up
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| Hotter then lava
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| Since I got with the Slaughters, I’m hot as the top of Nevada
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| The choppers will pop you
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| Stop you drop you, spinning top you
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| Hammers on deck like we repairing the sail boat
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| Hammers on deck like it was Stanley Borel’s boat
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| There are crack bars, I call them sell dope
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| C E L L, cause that was a jail quote
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| Coniyac, Mykestro, Bad Lucc and Locksmith
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| You could tell it’s West coast when you smell smoke |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Roll Call 2 , by - Crooked I. Song from the album Psalm 82:6, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп