Lyrics:
on my Patek
Took them cuffs off totin' automatics
This the shit we get a rush for
All this rose gold look like duck sauce
In the Maybach with a young
war
All these choppers in the crib
Look like a gun store
And the rose gold look like
Duck sauce in the Maybach
With a young broad why the fuck
Would I
Pamiętam kiedy byłem małym chłopcem
Po lekcjach odpalałem Guns n’ roses
Byłem Slash-em albo Axl-em Rose-m
Skacząc po kanapie w wyobraźni grałem
a splurge on my kind
Sippin' on a fifth of Rose wine
Yeah, the Flesh-N-, the Flesh-N-muthafuckin' Bone
Gettin' my tipsy on strong, always stay packin' that
city n**ga HOU
No wonder why n**gas walking round like they on the moon
Moving slow tryna blow for them flowers that dont bloom
This rose from
All alone I anticipate the first fresh blade of green
The young hydrangea blue, in bloom
Pink rhododendron too will all be gone by June
But now that
Judy for her cartoonish booty
For rhyme's sake, Bonzai Buckaroo
Ahoy nerd, crabs grab Zoidberg
To the Buck Rog mechanized bird
I'm takin' a rocket trip
The C.O.L.O.N.Y. east coast and the west coast fuse together this shit
ain't dope it's a musical treasure never come and test a, dope MC like
Brown
reapin up, and no keeping up with the Jonses
Long live P.E. and ban Guns'n'Roses
New Kids on the Block, stick to pop
No more making black songs, wack songs
Galloping with Huns in the pillage like Attila
Do it for the ‘Gram fake stuntin on the Insta
Money, drugs, guns and white boys that say ni (Hey)
The vanity
Reality ain’t real
When you dying by the gun
Na bra ya done pushin flowers
Fucked around in some dumb shit
And missed her baby shower
Now your son you’ll
It's spooky
Ain't regular
No routine
Swerving by with a blunt in my mouth (Whoo)
Blew her brains out my gun in her mouth (Whoo)
Switching holes
Now I'm
touch heat
I'm levels, you wanna be like J.I.D
My dog is tearing you up, piece by piece, that freestyle was weak
Laughin' from the backseat, do we need
la ville, j'fais du sal aujourd'hui
J'erre dans la ville, je drive-by mes ennemis
Dans le bolide, j'suis avec mes potos
Et chacun dans sa main on roule
It's evident in the way that I talk-a-talk
I travel abroad by the Concorde, with a Clue tape (Clue!)
Stop in Sicily and tell 'em they pizza fake
And I
and loaded, I had guns and roses (Of course)
I was just out here so bogus, came from a crib that had roaches (Whoa)
Got on a stove like Stouffers (Whoa), got me
and loaded, I had guns and roses (Of course)
I was just out here so bogus, came from a crib that had roaches (Whoa)
Got on a stove like Stouffers (Whoa), got me
of emergency
Nigga get the N-G-O's, shit you bend in your rolls
The men in your holes, all of my foes
All you smell is gunpowder then the scent of a rose
problems i got big guns
And if he want it then we bring out big drums
N if he want the smoke then we can run one
I got the bag that she need uh
fine ass
not a boyz n the hood addict
Menace fanatic
I live the street life for real
So I can brag it
Pop gave me gun lesson back when I was a kid
Now I fire
my wrist
Im just talkin me
My homie get to shootin like he wearin 33
Got a bad n boujie bitch i call my birkin queen
Addicted to that paper i been
it's not my fault you chose that route
This is all I knew
I had no choice
my nigga tf u talkin bout
I grew in the sum gutters single mother n still
living, to many breathing is enough so
Waking every morning gives their lives meaning
But what does it mean to be free
Cause at the end we are controlled by
Press then eject, left with a sket
Audermars Roleys, wet the Patek
This gun is my trophy, excellent skeng
Up close and personal
Spray it like it's
.jpg/300px-GNR_London_Stadium_2017_3_(cropped).jpg "Guns N' Roses")
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