Demons (feat. Jae Munnee)

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Scoe

David Brown Williams (born 1983), better known by his stage name Roscoe, is an American rapper. He released his debut album, Young Roscoe Philaphornia, in 2003, with the album debuting at #148 on the Billboard 200. more »

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Uh, Gang
Long Live Mar Long Live Dion Long Live Twan
Demon, demon
Come out with a Mac-10, don't come out past ten

The Mac-10, nigga don't come out past ten
Fonem pop out with a Mac-10
And the opps they don't be out it's past ten
Nigga died after chattin' what happened

Carry Glocks on our hip, we ain't scrappin
If you ain't rollin' woods, we ain't matchin
He was hard, now that nigga just Past tense
This ho Smoove as a bitch, Michael Jackson

Hit they block, tear it up, ain't no backspin
F*ck that, baby bro, I'ma spin back
Told him put the 10 mil where his wig at
Bitch, I been steppin', I know that they feel that

Extermination, my nigga, we kill rats
Oh, I heard that an opp lookin' for me
I'm still on the Vic like my nigga it been cap
Blow in this bitch, I don't care where his kids at

Fonem in mode, he forgot that he can rap
We dropped the whole hundred shells when we slid back
We putting belt right to ass where the kids at
I'm in my bag, tryna count up a mill bad

I'm from Ramsey, I used to have meal bags
Member' all through that bitch, I was trappin
Now I put OG in cribs, where the hills at
I know a couple of bitches who cappin' like they

Ain't The ones who know where all the pills at
we bananas, and ride with bananas
It's on you if you want that bitch peeled back
And all of my niggas is crazy

My shoot a vid where your homie got killed at
We gettin' money, they mad cause we still rap
His homie, Had died, mishap
Put niggas in trunks, kidnap

Don't even try, make some shit and it still slap
They don't smoke Za, OG
J Money, Shaq, Scoe, Kobe
Pop out that bitch, get to dumpin' like 4Deep

Mixin' the Migos with Wok, I might OD
Missin' my brother it hurt when he OD
And I miss it all, the old streets
Spin a hundred back blocks, just for Brody

Pop out that cut, we gon' blow, do it on three
Bitch it's the man with a plan for his whole team
I make it sound like a band, By my lonely
Countin' it up, by the band with my homies

No two for fifteen, you must think I'm the old me
Stroking her shit from the back, do it slowly
Switch in my hands, it was rainin' and pourin
Word around town that they wanna backdoor me

I see a four and I'm catchin' a four piece
When I talk, bitch, you better not ignore me
Give the Glock to my motherfuckin' shorty
Gang, slide on that block, At like 10 in the morning

Clutchin' real bad, tryna score, bitch, I'm horny
Spin, spin, spin, spin
Hit they ass with a four piece
She wanna f*ck, but she cannot get more me

And when we in public, don't do no recordin
Uh, uh, come on, let's get it
Niggas be doin' that chattin' and dissin
But when he pop out, we put hoes in his fitted

Unload the Glock, hit the crib, then I switch it
Niggas be phony and fakin' and snitchin
Too much heat, it ain't come to that kitchen
We gotta get it, bitch, we on a mission

Uh, uh, I don't care about the ticket
Shorty called me, said he got him a lo
And I told him I'm finna pop out, let's switch it
Shorty fucked me, cause my money real long

And this swag is different, you niggas is bitches
All of these trips I done took on this road
We gettin' that pack and we stack it, and flip it
We come from the trenches

Don't do no talkin', J Money go blitz em
Shorty get active, he blow wit no whistle
40 keep blowin', you duckin' a missile
Oh, I'm that nigga, I want it, I get it

I pick you out, then I'm comin' to get you
Mamas is cryin', it's sad, need a tissue
Come to your door if you make it a issue
Gang

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