Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Royalist, artist - Issa Gold. Date of issue: 07.12.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Royalist |
| She hit me up like where you at, I’m with my hittas |
| Small circle of winners smoking, plotting on my business |
| She like fuck them niggas with you |
| Everytime I hit you |
| You ain’t never 'round, you missing |
| Talking 'bout you a commitment |
| I’ll be back and forth |
| Like I’m on a court, I’m tryna play the course |
| Taking notes |
| Tryna win a sport but nigga only lost |
| She chasing nostalgia |
| I’m taming my karma |
| Everytime I call her she be with it I just stall up |
| I’ll be fronting, cause I got something |
| I didn’t, it ain’t nothing |
| I tell her |
| I know I love it |
| She fresh out the shower, I tell I roll my marijuana |
| I be sipping colada like i’m on a beach in Cubana |
| She equip with the drama, until I fuck that bitch so proper |
| Young indigo prophet, my nigga ain’t no way to stop it |
| I be touring, Im somewhere foreign |
| You know I’m whoring |
| When I’m back around the state |
| You know she back up on my plate |
| She know she can’t lead the king |
| Her highness my favorite, royalist |
| Yeah she trust in God, but nigga heaven sent |
| Tryna get back, to the point where we could prosper |
| But the princess is a bitch, she turn a nigga from gold back to copper |
| Mind of gold, i showed her |
| That’s what i demote her |
| When she meet me she can’t reach my motorola |
| I be out, leave a nigga alone |
| Dont’t hit up my phone |
| Unless you need a nigga come and bone and put you in your zone |
| Coast to coast, need to check my post |
| Nigga always ghost |
| Reefer smoke |
| in my clothes, the airport let me go |
| While i’m flying niggas sipping whine |
| First try, she recline |
| Still divine, lyrics in my mind i think i jot 'em down |
| On my way back to the Stuy, around the realest |
| New York City state of mind, my nigga no one keep it triller |
| When i land |
| Gotta hit up before that sour stank, that’s super dank |
| Spent some, so i hit the bank |
| Go to my Corolla |
| Pick my phone up, call her |
| What you doing? |
| Come over drinks and marijuana |
| She said «Nigga hold up |
| Your girl ain’t 'gon show up?» |
| I’m like «bitch don’t worry 'bout it come get your shit tore up» |
| She know she can’t lead the king |
| Her highness my favorite, royalist |
| Yeah she trust in God, but nigga heaven sent |
| Tryna get back, to the point where we could prosper |
| But the princess is a bitch, she turn a nigga from gold back to copper |