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Guru – Rollin Dolo

Guru
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исполнитель Guru

длительность 03:57

размер 9.03 MB

битрейт 320 kbps

загружено MC.Searcher

Rollin Dolo
03:57
(Intro) That's right, Boston Yeah, Boston niggas be rollin' dolo from state to state It's nothing, we do this Still nobody guards I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees Rollin' Dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate Yo, jealousy can kill so I test my skill Any pomp I can romp and stomp at will Now as I gets my thrill it's like my daily drill You spill raps and invade cause I've been made to ill You can't talk the talk, you can't walk the walk Been dwelling with the muggers and the murderers talk Your shocked by the way I regulate ya' obliterate ya' Erase your obsolete weak cheap data It's this hip-hop art I stay true to, crack brew to I fuck your girl a lot better than you do The type of lyrics I spit will never fail you Battle you online, type a letter forward it then email you Take you off the track and de-rail you Get the hell out my face don't want to be near you Don't want your snippets hate your album or your headshots It's ED O.G. in the black-fitted Red Sox Thuggin' the streets but you soft at home You got skills off the dome? I'm a off your dome This is a battlefield, no time for screaming and yelling You get smacked in the face use your ice for the swelling Besides the records I'm selling My momma' raised no felon On the hunt like Helen For whack rappers who's jellin' This is drama not a kitty show You want to get fucked up Like the low-budget video I know a lot of time's passed The ED O.G. is still here and ya'll still half-ass {Ya'll still half ass} {Ya'll half-ass rappers} Still nobody guards I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees Rollin' Dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate It's the return of the mouth-musher, skull-crusher Pack myself with two nines and cold crush ya That nigga all day beating down suckers Sporting the game making it get more rougher The face-puncher the hot-cruncher The have it with gods for the law out-to-luncher The seven-thirty, know I'm more than a sick man The streets raised this wild ass nigga from "Murderpan" The real rapper the pimp-slapper The put on the socks with your suit and stay dapper Whoa, the chump-choker the backwood tree smoker Stash the gats in the sofa it's all over One life to live and that's that I keep my lyrics heavily packed and cocked back I'll smash you right in your fucking face black I'm the realest nigga what you know about that I'm a let my skills shine like brand new chrome And tell them son-niggas you run with that daddy's home I roll dolo from state to state it feels great And in two thousand get on the stage and demonstrate Still nobody guards I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees Rollin' Dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate No holds barred I'm going all out I don't think your for real I think your all mouth So bust one for my dogs locked down And for my real rap lovers know I got it locked down Untill your blocked down, punks get beat down You can't rock a party take a seat you clown I frown upon scavengers and wannabe's Commit atrocities upon MC's who think they heart is mean Still nobody guards I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees Rollin' Dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate Smokey gray Lexus, diamond necklace We livin' wreckless and die for these inspectors The four pounders, cock the name on you out-of-towners And what, henne' filled cups peep the diamond cut Ice, paradise, living in the thug life Married to the game fuck a lame diggin' out your wife Loving all these block wars do shit that's uncalled for Make money in your spot get it locked, shoot down four For all your ghetto revenues Spraying through any avenue Running I'll be grabbing you Hog-tied and smacking you With heaters on purpose Hold you hostage like you was Turkish And your pussy ass elevated gut it down your worthless These thoughts is vivid and we talk if you live it Rappers brag about a town but don't get respect in it Ain't a damn shame, whats thats man's name That got a flame to his nut Clearing out his spot with a rusted hook Trust me it's not this entertainment Ask the judges that face me on the arrangement Plus I came with, hundreds of niggas that think the same The plastic hotter than acid to melt the brain You know the rest man
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