Ajax Stacks, Packy - Rose Gold Photos lyrics

Uhh, yeah high Rise in this
Fly guys in this

Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos, fros shining like a star
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar
Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos
Fros shining like a star yeah
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar

Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Never needed no ghostwriter but a nigga
Might just buy this bar
Got weed in the car, got weed in a jar
Got a seed in a jar I might grow tomorrow
Riding 'round town with the windows down
Her legs and the door are both ajar both ajar
Ghost ride the bitch
This girl and the car, I both gotta ditch
Gotta get that cash 'cause
My palms always itch
And I gotta stay tipped in that Louis Stitch
I meant Louis’ bitch
That oak room with that perfume
Go perfect with my afternoon
And that’ll make more sense real soon
If you a real goon
You ain't into with no high fashion
That’s my passion, so why gas 'em?
Got a drive that I know could bypass em
You a sky captain? You fly captain?
Nah, you a lie captain
I know niggas that’ll die trappin'
But don’t try rappin', just keep nappin'
When I keep snappin'
Rose gold photos in new polos
I’m the man like 4 Four Lokos
Why these rappers just sound so-so
My flow loco, my flow cocoa
Want me while I’m money moto

Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos, fros shining like a star
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar
Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos
Fros shining like a star yeah
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar

Oh, no there he go
That boy there with a cold ass flow
Roll in the city do a dope ass show
Then he go back home with a cold ass cho
Local huh? They didn’t like me
Heard the beat in the 16
Now I’m gonna be a mogul, huh?
They flip flop all the time then
Blame it on hip hop
Keep that Ziploc, late like tick-tock
Blame it on gridlock, blame it on Kid Rock
White boy, Michigan, damn right, red hot
Game in the headlock, matter of fact red dot
Headshot bang! I’m killing this verse
Any smart rapper should be
Stealing this verse
I’ll be independent making money
While these other rappers
Trying to get a deal in this verse, no way
I’m the king of this empire
My team bout to be a dynasty
Couple bad chicks wanna ride and I
Call that shit fine with me
This too easy, you sell out like you freebies
We sell out your hometown
You sell 'bout like two CDs
Your girl says she sees me
Left her, man, he peewee
I’m faded, so she DD
Or I drop that dime like CP3
Remember when I couldn’t get an EP on
Any blog and they’d just delete me?
Ain't shit changed
But now I got a full inbox and MTV
They CC me

Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos, fros shining like a star
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar
Rose gold photos
Hoes know who the fuck we are
Rose gold photos, clothes looking so bizarre
Rose gold photos, fros shining like a star
Rose gold photos, pose with a glass cigar