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twi-lite - rolling lyrics

floatin on a cloud and i may not come down
twi-lite, juliany, bfg
kamakazi, man i’m twisted
awe sh-tt

[verse 1: twi-lite]
i be that pretty motherf-cka, st. maarten what i’m repping
got yo b-tch flexing, slamming like wrestling
searching for a nice guy, i am no nice guy
toot it then i boot it no connection bad wifi
no cigarette smoking when we taking flights
you can play with my brian griffin, i’m a family guy
on to the next one getting brain einstein
we be rolling stoned age, hi5
gimme hi5 i’m smooth like the jackson 5
boink boink lap dance eat it like pacman
yaba daba do it, p-ssy popping on a handstand
sour diesel strong knock you out like a caveman, cave man
i be rocking stage mann, got a bad b-tch blowing o’s on location
yo kdc invasion did i mention that this b-tch is asian

[hook: twi-lite]
trippy n-ggas, trippy n-ggas
i be with some hippie n-ggas
chasing cash and blowing o’s
trippy n-ggas, trippy n-ggas
i be with some hippie n-ggas
chasing cash and blowing o’s
rollin (6x)
i don’t know where i’m
going (6x) but i’m gone

[verse 2: juliany]
mann all you got is real simple raps
what about your sk!lls where they at
jacking rhymes from fab come on man, where they do that at
styles of the internet, smile cause i’m in effect
mann you ask around i put it down plus i been a vet
breezin thru the sunshine, all you got it dumb rhymes
im about to k!ll it but i k!ll them every punch line
isn’t that a contradiction, didn’t have a pot to p-ss in
p-ssin on my compet-tion, take a bit of logic wisdom
mix it up with lots of spliffin, got ambition and a mission
didn’t have to ask permission, speaking now the cl-ss is listening
cl-ss is what i’m usually ditching, cash is what i grew from this sh-t
mann i got big booty b-tches ashing on my true religion
don’t care what you fools is sniffin, hoes bring me the newest piffin
just me and you on the screws so you should wait up listen
don’t follow rules like in school but you should pay attention
you make your moves as you choose or you should play the bench then

[verse 3: bfg]
momma was a hustler, daddy was a dead beat
i’m a beat you motherf-ckers upside your head
till your f-cking head bleed dead b
ain’t no f-cking body gonna track me
who you think the fbi, feed you tuna picks
cook dinner for your girl, no evidence no csi
who am i to always seem to call me absurd though
but if you really wanna find out
i can guess you can ask your girl tho
jump motherf-ckers like hurdles
hit you up under that belt and rusty shank up in your rib
make sure my presence is felt
don’t play the cards i was dealt, rather rob the dealer instead
take the kings and aces out the stacks and put the rest out for grabs
don’t do credit just cash, blowing that money like hash
got my own trade station in the bas-m-nt wanna train your girl back to bed
how you like that, yeah we the sickest
don’t give a f-ck bout you b-tches, you compare to me just quit it
you’ll make yourself look ridiculous, aye yo twi-lite
go ahead and tell these boats what it is, cuz at the end of the day
i don’t plan to give a f-ck about this sh-t, now come on

- twi lite lyrics

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