by Roc Marciano.
stop me baby, that logo raw,
stop me baby, that logo raw
straight like that, play the bat, fade to black
the game lay flat, pull a lame name out the hat
take em off the map, eat his food and get fat
fuck a buck 50, give him a 3.60, erase his history
i’m hard like a taste of whiskey, move like a gipsy
in a blue king vivid, pull out the dub hippy
you too iffy, i’m sickness skippy, i’m sticky
choose bitch too picky
keep it sour, respect the shooter, inside your head it’s your register sooner
maneuver, it might turn up to be a tumor, the radiation came from the computer
gun in the case, replace the toolbox,
the hook realer consumer like toner
10 chucks, the cold got me held up in the cobra clutch
it’s tough, ivish to trust, egyptian mush, shoot outs and dusk
winds gust with thrust, knock your bitch i’m a cluts, sorry
armani tux, mami rock the body glove
i snuck the shottie in the club, but it’s all love
stop me baby, that logo raw,
stop me baby, that logo raw
knock your fucking head off nigga, let’s get em
stand in the halls with the fiends
serving saltine bling queen philippine
these are morphine dreams, and the flat screen machines
no books, just magazines
lights, cameras, nights at the copa cabana
i’m no obama, my name’s on the banner, bitch
for how i use grammar, the cayenne come with the scrambler
the lame niggas gave the game cancer
carver till my face album on my pogo
with 2 bad hoes can …beat the pussy brutal
kick the poodle, body like a fitness guru
she kiss the rang feel the king approval
ah, tracking vocals that’s a black opal
million dollar gun twist noodles
the disposal, gold revolver, code of honor, bad karm
still cops playing in santa barbra
bare handed, we’ll pull them all in out the harbor
did it in …my bitch do what i taught her, breathe underwater
the key order rock 3 quarter, a good pimp should never have to lay a finger on her
stop me baby, that logo raw,
stop me baby, that logo raw.
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