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Search results for 'high by roscoe' Page #5

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strapped? Yes!
Private jet, gat in the vest, packed with the (?)
Hit Nate soon as I land, hop in the van
Everything calm and cool, gat by the croch
Travel
plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night
You know he had to leave Texas but he won't say why
He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufaula
Caught
plays that Choctaw Bingo every Friday night
You know he had to leave Texas but he won't say why
He owns a quarter section up by Lake Eufaula
Caught
of me
Police muggin' like I got a couple bricks on me
They hate when rappers come in town and have they club crunk
Cause we get e'rybody high and leave
homie
JJ Finesser I called game
Praises to The Most High
That be the vibe
That's the Vibes & Stuff
Shoutout to Tribe
Seen The Truth
In his prime
Seen
knows how
He plats that Choctaw bingo every Friday night
You know he had to leave Texas but he won't say why
He owns a quarter section up by Lake
like I hit the lotta (yeah)
Up in traffic, duckin' potholes (vroom, vroom)
Slow down, which way the opps go? (which way?)
These niggas chicken, Roscoe
crash I'm goin high speed
Dreads all in my head like Roscoe Dash I'm doing my thing
It's crazy to see how some niggas still mock
You not even pussy you
to heavy 
That crown on my head 
cnd my heart 
Got the world in my bed 
In my cart 
cll this gas we just rolled up a fart say

High up we go
Give em' 5
But
then I texted back you down to ride
Yes I is but I'm with friend texted back cool let's just get it in
Picked them up round 10pm to Roscoe's for that
it is
When my momma declined my money I cried
When I lost I just got high
Ridin' in the Audi with fifth on my mind
Snap back to reality, fifth on my
a no show
Shootin' the willy bobo out on Nostrand with the po' folks (uh)
Black dragon rap, flames out the nostrils
From Crown Fried to Roscoe's I'm
shots pop, you get your top hit (brr)
We doin' drive-bys, we listenin' to Pac shit (boom boom boom)
Hah, stay in your lane, bro, that's all we sayin'
just a Brontosaurus with a sixth sense
Walking around not even knowing
That he don't exist
The cardio by linguistics this shit be
The hardest act
cook 'em up in the pot slow
I'm a mini Roscoe's chicken and waffles

AY
Ay, ay
A- are you suckin' your sons dick?
Bitch you suckin' your sons dick bitch?
All money in by the way
We just getting better every day
Running things everywhere we stay
We don't care what the haters say
And you know we ridin
of badness
Others the merchants of death
Truth is the sire of sadness
The keeper of the final breath
Smoke Pole Roscoe Hog-leg or Gat
Endbringer Bell Ringer
Bitch I'm gone off that hard, Brick Squad we barred
Them boys are high 
Them boys are high 
Them boys are high 
We ballin out
We ballin out
We
Singer when I go
Hit her once she did a high note
Used to live out the condo
Serving at school so i made it a costco
Spanish mami eat the dick like a taco
them high notes like the opera (Alright)
Paintin' her face like Picasso (What?)
Ladies man, Johnny Bravo (Yuh)
You a chicken, no Roscoe's (Hah!)
Been
dough, I'm with it
We gon' bring it back, to the city
If you wanna ride, come with me


Pool full of money I'mma dive in it
Chase that high don't hide from
(Bah, bah!)
I said pink Gucci boxers, uh (Ooh)
Present from yo mama, uh (What?)
Like Biggie, call me papa (Yuh)
Hit them high notes like the opera
down against the wall you can get the picture
I'm high power put Chloe Bailey to sleep
And leave her lil' young ass stretched out on the sheets
We ain't
no other stuff
Gotta be obsessive Kovu Byrant high 5 get em clutch
Buckets when you need em, you never defeat em
Out work and prepared, goin be tough

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