Rollin’ Dolo

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Guru

Guru (Devanagari गुरु) is a Sanskrit term for "teacher" or "master", especially in Indian religions. The Hindu guru-shishya tradition is the oral tradition or religious doctrine transmitted from teacher to student. In the United States, the meaning of "guru" has been used to cover anyone who acquires followers, especially by exploiting their naiveté, due to the inflationary use of the term in new religious movements. more »

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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 f*ck 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 OG 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 OG 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 f*ck 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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