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rocaine – global lyrics

(detroit boyyy)
(roll up, aye roll that up man x3)

we be eating, i don’t know about y’all
you can’t get nothing loose, nigga 4nem buy it all
i’ll get a b-tch number, i don’t call
without the head blood the whole body fall
ar’s with the lights cus niggas hiding at night
nigga f-ck your og, i got more stripes
in the trap house hot, it be rolling like dice
money over your b-tch, all these hoes trife
i be outside big guns on me everyday
aye twin glocks, mary k
i rock like billy ray
i’m off molly by myself
if we catch his -ss over here, can’t nobody help
gotta focus on yourself, f-ck everybody else
i’ll pull my heat stick out, make everybody melt
on the real dawg, you my motherf-cking neph
what the f-ck is mcm? must be talking about my belt
let’s talk about that little b-tch i hit this morning
naw nevermind cus that shit ain’t important
3 hoes on me because 1 b-tch boring
don’t hoop nigga but i trap in my jordan’s
don’t hoop nigga but i shoot like larry
you know i don’t get ready, cus i stay ready
used to be broke but now everything heavy
riding through trapping in that drop top chevy
older i get, i get smarter and smarter
i don’t want no liquor, i want pills and some water
cut your -ss off quicker than your favorite barber
hardbody, almighty, i’m from santa barbara
k!lla niggas in wyo, jackboots and demons
we k!lled him for no reason, somebody clean the cement
lil baby neck me in the whip, it was decent
he ain’t got no bail money, stuck up in the precinct
run it up, count, jugg, work, work, rihanna nigga
dangling on 44 now and i’m with a hitta
whip up, skrt, in the kitchen i be babysitting
i can make a hoe pay me, i ain’t tricking nigga
niggas scared to ride for a fact, he ain’t with the shit
flicked jucash, he ain’t snitch, we know you innocent
we gone click clack, need that, you wasn’t feeling it
nat nat give me head slow, but count that money quick
i get head, then next
i’ll never be back
tell dj khaled im the motherf-cking best
hit you in your head, don’t waste no money on no vest
never had a job, jugg-a-thon, i finesse
f-ck that talking shit
yeah i dogged yo b-tch
who is this? hold on b-tch, i’m hitting yo sis
these niggas don’t make sense, ain’t f-ck with em since
if you got a chop nigga how the f-ck you miss?
y’all niggas shoot to shoot, we shoot to k!ll shit
dig your partner up b-tch so i can take a piss
you was getting whoopings nigga i was whipping my wrist
i put that hammer on him, make him kiss the stick

- rocaine lyrics

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