roxanne 3x - rxknephew & rx papi lyrics
[intro: rx papi]
huh
dawg sh*t records
[verse 1: rx papi]
lil n*gga ran off with it he ain’t bring no cane back n*gga
got money moved out the hood you can’t blame that n*gga
put this glock in your face rearrange that n*gga i ain’t the same cat n*gga
but i’ll still get down on you put this big pound on you
this b*tch got 30 rounds for you talk that dog sh*t daily don’t no n*gga do it like me n*gga
paid twenty thousand f*cked your b*tch in a pair of white nikes
n*gga the block hot they know my name and they know my face
when this glock in my hand get the f*ck up out my way
when i was six teen i wasn’t working i was robbing everyday
you don’t know sh*t bout drugs deals you don’t know no slug feel
[?] smoke since i was seven unc ass on the drugs still
everybody ‘round my way sold dope n*gga
it is what it is it’s gon’ go how it’s gon’ go n*gga
one thing about pap they gon’ say i ain’t no hoe n*gga
and i’m train to go n*gga i’m on go n*gga off the rip with it
i got a motha f*cking glock it got a stick it in
i switch and еmpty the whole clip in less thеn *
i switch and empty the whole clip b*tch i been trippin’
this b*tch still hittin’ my n*ggas on some bullsh*t don’t try that sh*t with us
n*gga take yo chain and watch off my n*ggas stick ya up
all my n*ggas grimy and they shiesty that’s just how we coming
i don’t give a f*ck about no record deal i want some money
b*tch!
they say lil’ cuz need meds that lil’ n*gga crazy
12 shot tom brady glock 9 no three eighty
ayy didn’t yo mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers
b*tch i seen neph cook up with a wire hanger
b*tch my glock in hand if i feel i’m in danger up this b*tch and get to banging
p*ssy ass n*ggas know wassup with us it’s thirty in the glock i can’t knuckle up
lil cuz got the chop out the drop he gon buck some up
crackers give me money i spend the half on dope the other half on guns
f*ck my opps they ain’t on nun you a p*ssy so is yo son
n*gga tell me i can’t cook dope ight b*tch imma show you
one thing i can’t stand is when a n*gga talk like he know you
let me know what’s on my face that make me look like i’m approachable
n*ggas on the internet they talk like they got smoke with you
i pull up on my opps and do exactly what i’m supposed to do
i was masked up like a f*ck but they like “papi, we still know it’s you”
they took the jury when i’m rolling through the glock same size as 42
[?] do the sh*t my hoes a do half the city got my d*ck in they mouth
i done shot so many n*ggas house made ‘em move out
they know we inter state babies we gotta find a new route
these n*ggas think they el chapo they only loved a few ounces
real dope boy my pockets filled up with a few thousands (yeah, yeah)
[break: rxknephew]
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
aye!
yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah
[verse 2: rxknephew]
ya broke as f*ck you better go get you some
opps be sharing guns for facebook pictures they ain’t hitting nun
this glock i got i do not like to show unless i’m “boom boom boom”
she said that she got sh*t to do b*tch i got sh*t to do
hit that trap i beat that bowl i pray to my rag like a [?]
all the opps be on a n*gga d*ck they ain’t got sh*t to do
i can put ya mans on all our bags got stamps on them
get the f*ck from ‘round here n*gga big neph ain’t putting no stamp on it
ayy this .556 a turn him forrest gump crack that look like ms puff
my lil b*tch she a fine one how i know she f*ck with me cause lil mama gon’ line her some
i’m not the one to play with b*tch! go find you one
every ten bags get tied up that’s a bundle for you
cook it and fold it for you wrap that b*tch and in foil for you
all my opps fl!ck qp’s and wear mall jewelry dope boy white tee
i ain’t gotta go to the mall for it that thirty sound like * chicken head
six, six fah, grrt turn him to crazy leg aye might drop a bag on her she got crazy head
i might just change my mind crazy in my head
i got that super [?] like i just left the feds
i feel like rokane put this glock down use my hands
that b*tch go * b*tch i come for the grams that pot go “skirr” then blow up when i beat the pan
they like chill i’m like h*ll naw do the pot like pap and [?] in the backyard
they never leave they yard they backyards again
catch a n*gga “fah!” like he shawn and em’ aye!
pat down my [?] i put the glock on him
h*ll nah i ain’t a boxer glock make him freeze up like papa doc and them
walk in that b*tch beat the pot like [?]
not going in b*tch can’t get the glock in there
you not from around here can’t trap shop
24 hour we one stop shop
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