Lyrics Wok And Red - Drakeo The Ruler

Wok And Red

Smoov, know what I’m sayin', this beat tough
Yeah, it ain’t even what I think was going on
(Smoov, what’s good baby?)
And you know we run this shit (Cha)
I make L.A. look real good
I make the West look good
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist
For ten K, you’ll get filled with hollow tips
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
Home run with this plastic, turn a nigga to bobblehead
Tommy Pickels, Tommy Hilfiger, man, I hate niggas
Wearin' my clothes, imitatin', niggas be knock off
I bought all my trophies to the room, my shoes cost thousands
I got Caiden in the booth with me, watch yo' mouth bitch
Caught him talkin' down on the team, he got dropped kick
Where the chopstick?
And the mosh pit?
Wildin' out, Willie Beams on the mob sticks
Socks and shoes and grimy teeth on the concrete
I see you flexin' hundreds too but you not me
My nina’s Siamese, my jewelry blind niggas
My opps always on pointer, never outside thuggin'
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist
For ten K, you’ll get filled with hollow tips
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist
For ten K, you’ll get filled with hollow tips
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
(Shit, nigga)
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist, nigga
For ten K, you will get filled with hollow tips, nigga
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick (For real)
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
A hundred rounds jumpin' out the chop', they like, «Stop, he dead»
2016, I was flu flamin' through pots and pans
Big bands, mariachi, lil' nigga do the paisa dance
How many times I’ma tell you that fights don’t matter?
If I kick in the FN at his chest, his mic gon' shatter
Ten shots, that’s me giving him micro doses
I don’t know about your stick, but mine bipolar
2021 Audemar Piguet, yours might be older
Don’t bring your girls to the stu' 'cause she might be rollin'
Give her a Tesla, she gon' on gour wheels
Tell these rap niggas, let go of my coattail
You wasn’t thuggin' in the county with me, no bail
You ain’t been where I been, you wouldn’t go there
Yo' name all up in reports, you were a gold man
The Stinc Team for the win, you know the slogan
Opps likin' all my pictures, stop holdin' 'em (Uh)
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist
For ten K, you’ll get filled with hollow tips
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist
For ten K, you’ll get filled with hollow tips
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
(Shit, nigga)
I came in the function burnt out wit' a broken wrist, nigga
For ten K, you will get filled with hollow tips, nigga
Rocky Balboa, tell a nigga to box this stick (For real)
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
Shit, nigga
You know what’s going on
Yeah, nigga
You know who got the West back now, I make this shit look good
I got lil' Caiden in the booth with me like—
Six-hundred in jewelry
You already know what’s going on
We ain’t even finna do all that
Hm, for ten K, you will get filled with hollow tips (Uh)
Aha, tuh
Shittin' me
Uh, uh, uh, hollow tips
You’ll be dead if you come between Wock' and red
For ten K, you’ll be filled with hollow tips