kappalot - rolls royce lyrics
you wanna do it, my boy?
still about my name, about the way you play like you the sh+t
i’m a young man getting home, breaking what i can’t fix
and i want to touch a real car, i want to touch a million
man, i just want a brand+new car, i want a rolls royce
and i can’t even lie, i’m speaking in my own voice
i got some voices in my head, they tell me no choice
i’m trying to lay some sh+t to bed, i’m making no noise
i gotta run this paper up next to my own boys
i know some n+ggas claim i changed, but now i’m grown, boy
and i don’t do this for the fame, it’s for my own joy
i’m just steady counting days till y’all come home, boy
you better stay up in your lane; we taping domes, boy
i’m steady tripping, reminiscing about the dub, boy
and my n+ggas keep a pipe; that’s all they know, boy
might grab a chrome and let it strike; this ain’t no sword
no, you can’t even get on time—i’m all alone, boy
you know my heart was full of ice, now it’s a long void
man, i’m trying to get a car, i want a rolls royce
got some voices in my head, they tell me no choice
i’m trying to lay some sh+t to bed, i’m making no noise
we’re trying to stack up all our bread because i’m the gold coin
feel like just a year ago, them n+ggas tried to clown me
i cut them n+ggas off; it’s only gang around me
i see your b+tch, she on some soft sh+t, don’t arouse me
feel like i’m baby, sh+t they do, it can’t drown me
you know i’m running from the jakes, they can’t surround me
oh, he can’t take that heat; he sound like ground beef
ain’t no more running from mistakes—i think i found me
and i’m the best in my state, like f+ck a county
i was really at my lowest, but you downed me
i ain’t even gonna trip—see you around, b
middle fingers up to who doubt me
i did this sh+t for the gang; this ain’t about me
sfg, we make plays—how’d that sound be?
i can’t let that sh+t phase me, it don’t astound me
feel like the king of this game, like where my crown be?
man, this sh+t don’t feel the same since you been arrested
i won’t buy no d+mn chain ’cause i’m buying investments
trying to leave a stain with this new smith & wesson
i can’t die like no lame, b+tch, i’ll die with this weapon
girl, i’m infatuated, i’m filled with obsession
feel like music’s my way to deal with the pressure
racing to these racks, i gotta run it up
i won’t stop until i get a plaque, i know it’s coming up
n+gga run up, get your sh+t smacked—don’t think ’bout running up
f+ckers looking flagrant lately, these b+tches stuffing up
turn him to a bag, thinking that he tough enough
slinging while i rap, i’m really on my david ruffin stuff
hit it from the back, and she said i ain’t hit it rough enough
double back the track ’cause i don’t think i’ve done enough
racing to these millions; at the top, you know i’m jumping up
back in ’15, we had to drop the truck
this a fully on a stick, i bet it’s gonna f+ck him up
don’t you speak on my name, i’ll be quick to shut him up
free my n+gga out the jam, you know he cutting up
this a dirty stick, .357—it ain’t f+cking up
draco got a cooler kit, but i still wear the gloves
can’t pursue a b+tch ’cause a ho broke my trust
i’m all about the newest sh+t, i think i’m in love
got my ar, so hold it tight—won’t put nothing above
counting all this bread, tired of counting all these crumbs
put this sh+t to bed, ’cause i’m the one that’s on a different run
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