Lyrics Roll One - Rich Homie Quan, Gucci Mane

Roll One - Rich Homie Quan, Gucci Mane
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Roll One, artist - Rich Homie Quan. Album song Deluxe Edition (Rich Homies Ent Presents Rich Homie Quan & Gucci Mane), in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 16.11.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Richhomiezent
Song language: English

Roll One

Baby, you so fly, I gotta let you know something
Ass pokin' out them jeans, you make me wanna poke something
Page one of them corner boys, them young niggas don’t know nun
Top grade marijuana, baby, I just wanna smoke something
Can you roll one?
Tell me, can you roll one?
Can you roll one?
Tell me, can you roll one?
Ass pokin' out them jeans, you make me wanna poke something
I gotta let you know something, I’m gon' let you hold something
Copped two girls look just like you and we gon' have a foursome
I got so much dro to roll, I think I wanna roll one
I ain’t none of these average joe, respect the fact, got cabbage, ho
I ain’t no horse and carriage, ho, I’m not with no marriage, ho
Gucci Mane go Macho Man on a bitch, Randy Savage
If you sicker than a big dick then Big Guwop got the antidote
Diamonds on my pinky finger, same size as a cantaloupe
just like a antelope
Gucci Mane just cuttin' down trees, you don’t know, bitch, call Geronimo
This money got me ten times more swagged out than I was a month ago
And this paper got me too turnt up, just blasted off a blunt ago
I turn Cassie to a nasty ho, Rihanna to a classy ho
Get you out them panties, lay you on that sofa
It’s just like a sandwich, come and eat this cold cut
Baby girl feelin' herself, hands on her hips like «So what?»
Swear to God she bent down for too long, it’s time to go up
Lil money, bitch, it’s time to grow up
Get to grindin', grab the weed, get the blunts and roll up
Them club owners know what’s up, them girls wanna roll with us
They love how we showin' up, show up, big faces, throw up
Me and Gucci brought cash to the club
Smokin' out the bag in the club
Hold on, gotta gas in the club
Rich Homie bitch got the fattest ass in the club
Niggas mad in the club
Bitch
We gon' pull up last to the club
Me and Meech still passin' on girls
Drivin' with money, got cash in the car, shawty
Gucci ain’t poppin', he think that he poppin'
That arrogant, ugly lil' son of a bitch
Swear that he fresh and he think that he rich
I’m gon' try hit every car that he get
Pardon my pimpin', man, pardon my pimpin'
Man, pardon my pimpin', excuse my fish
Come out the hip, shoot off the rip
Pick the grip up, man, I’m coming equipped
Pity the fool, pity the fool
Get a when I’m late on the rent
Straight in, can’t see past the tint
Lay in your britches, I’m pitching a tent
Yes, I admit, broke as a bitch
No window to throw out a pot and the piss
Bright as a bitch, pardon my French
My Rollie is yellow so pardon the piss
I’m talking to Tony, I told you you monkey
I warned you and warned you, now pay me me money
I’ll make you regret that you came to my country
What would possess you to play with me money?
from monday to monday
Sunday to sunday, friday to thursday
Run up on me, you thought you was splurging
Hit in the head and in need of a surgeon

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Artist lyrics: Rich Homie Quan
Artist lyrics: Gucci Mane