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ro$ama - steppa music lyrics

[intro]
let’s go
let’s go, b+tch
alright, come on (haha)
you know what i mean? i be having fun with this sh+t (tony coles)
see, usually i be on some sh+t like (yxngtee)
(cheeze)
drop (go, uh)
yeah, duh
had to let that sh+t ride (had to let that sh+t roll)
had to let that b+tch slide (had to let that b+tch, skrrt)
had to let that sh+t ride
let that sh+t ride
let’s do it
huh?
it’s 600, like 600
n+gga, say, “beef” (high up)

[verse 1]
extended clip next to the seat, sh+t look like a stick shift (fah)
trx, motor racing for pink slips (skrrt)
can’t get the blue b+lls, i nut on her pink lips (uh)
then she get up, make rice with the beef tips (thanks)
whoever thought ro$ama would be rich? (whoever thought?)
i was just on the block with og crips
rappin’ at lunch when punchlines didn’t mean sh+t (huh?)
wrappin’ bricks like the face of the weeknd
‘member them days we mashed up like a slasher movie? (like what?)
ballin’ hard, sh+t, we didn’t need a substitution (woah)
walk down gang, nowadays, we make stepper music
slide on the hood, this sh+t look like an action movie (skrrt)
after the club, we’ll pimp in the parking lot (in the park)
sidepiece same color as waffle fries (uh)
drop top coupe, ’92, it’s the perfect size (yo)
givin’ out more birds than a turkey drive
[interlude]
yeah (yeah)
uh, plug threw the rock with a perfect assist
so much ‘caine in the whip, eddie kane in the whip, in the back singin’ “nights like this” (like this)
uh, yeah
whippin’ pots, i done broke my wrist (i done broke)
own a fedex truck, i feel like crack, finna steal all these boxes and sh+t

[verse 2]
banana clip hang out the drac’ like a slave man (like what?)
throw up the wrong letter, play hangman (on crip)
been blessed with a swag so cold that my stylist caught chills, backed up and said, “ayy, man”
made friends with the rock like a caveman
‘member days we was thuggin’ with j. mann (on crip)
took a look at the trap, all these js at the spot
you would think me and jordan was great friends (swish)
icy ass piece on my neck say 600 (precise)
trap jumpin’, math class, sh+t do numbers (woah)
i’m on a mission to get what i got comin’
rave party, dope veins got my arms pumpin’ (pump)
i’m in the field like receivers, i’m route runnin’ (gone)
pure dope, got the mouth of the fiends gummin’ (uh)
n0body ever said ro$ama needs something (n0body)
hop out the whip, bangin’ crip, tryna bleed something

[outro]
icy ass piece on my neck say 600 (yo)
trap jumpin’, math class, sh+t do numbers
i’m on a mission to get what i got comin’
rave party, dope veins got my arms pumpin’ (pump)
i’m in the field like receivers, i’m route runnin’ (gone)
pure dope, got the mouth of the fiends gummin’
n0body ever said ro$ama needs something (n0body)
hop out the whip, bangin’ crip, tryna bleed something (ooh)

- roama lyrics

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