Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wishing Well, artist - Young Roddy. Date of issue: 24.05.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Wishing Well |
| Uh, started with nothing, story about the roller |
| Thought the road with no jam, made us work the Martin Luther |
| Never get caught in my feelings |
| There’s Biggie getting that cold G |
| This for them nights I was starving |
| So tired of ramen noodles |
| Never get stuck in no true |
| I tell you just 'bout my past |
| Now they call me the future |
| Never been with confusion |
| Daddy’s is taking that moben |
| I brought my sister her toilet, I pray she never use it |
| Truth be told, I’d be dead and gone if it wasn’t for music |
| On a road to the richest, started out and I hooped it |
| Kush shit living with niggas shooting, I ain’t talking hooping |
| No lie them niggas ruthless, she suck it just like she toothless |
| Now I’m stunting these niggas |
| All these niggas my junior |
| Fuck a vest in my city, them boys ain’t match your coffee |
| I swear this more than music |
| I tell you my life like a movie |
| I coulda been a blue chip |
| But this one for the crew though |
| 'Cause they know I in good sense |
| They hopped up off that good shit, no bullshit |
| They young gods spending from the poor pit |
| Like God bless, they say the squad next |
| But I say we right now |
| What’s a better time to drop another bomb like funk flex? |
| Made it out the projects where cops never protect |
| The damn thing, hold up, she tryna get my last name |
| But hold on this bitch, wanna rhyme before this cash came |
| Oh Lord, I jumped off the porch into the fast lane |
| Selling all the young dope, I’m still in the crack game |
| I know some killers who don’t mind killing |
| I’m boss like Max Payne |
| Tell them niggas ain’t for the stars |
| But they got bad aim |
| Body everybody, I put that shit on the rap game |
| Toss a quarter in the wishing will |
| Shit ain’t work, my nigga still in jail |
| I’m talking for many years |
| That’s cold turkey |
| My homie got hooked on that tony, he nose first |
| I guess he soul searching |
| Hard time, had to see him breakfast at dinner |
| No heat up in his crib, had to bundle up for the winter |
| I murder any nigga who put his hand on my sister |
| If they lock me up I’m like 'who the fuck’ll come visit?' |
| Guess I’m uncommon |
| Niggas in the courthouse, singing like cold timers |
| Even in the dark I be shining like blood diamonds |
| Gotta keep that rocking |
| I’m feeling like Joe Johnson |
| No time for the nonsense |
| Good sense |
| I guess I’m uncommon |
| Roll up |