DJ Muggs, Roc Marciano - Aunt Bonnie lyrics
[DJ Muggs, Roc Marciano - Aunt Bonnie lyrics]
Shot up the golden rock to hit the rover spot
Smoke a lot of pot like Prop Joe on the co-op
My hoes got blowjobs too cool to ball
I might slow jock
I get you robbed, you move to Omaha
Ain't no hoes in my bios, only the co-sign
I let foes dry on the clothesline
My whole styles remind me of bovine
About to start my own clothing
Line and be multi don’t play both sides
You get hit and left by the roadside
My lady knows how, I'm a snob
I'd rather do crime with the mob
Than punch a time card
Your body pop out the drop like a pop tart
Nigga, don’t ever fix your face to front
We eat fake gangsters for lunch
To wet my taste buds
380 snub leave you rubbed
I had on rubber gloves
Just for pumping your gums, you got slumped
My hitters' in a Bonneville
My hitters' in a Bonneville
Fill you up with copper
You should stop and chill
Pop a pill, get your wig peeled
Danced with wolves
Learned a couple new dance moves
Your tunes Nation Lampoons
My new sedan's maroon
Might need a hot air balloon to get
A clear view of my hairdo
These squares are rare heirlooms
Muggs provide the backdrop
I crack your top and apricot
Then laughed off your plot to sabotage
Every half a bar is worth a Jaguar
As for Mar
What's on my arm's out of MadameNoire
You buying caviar Pathmark
You marks ain't even hit the halfway mark
I'm like a young Hasselhoff, satin drawers
Michael Kors velours
Hopped out the 4 door like Boston George
They gentrified the game
That's when the God came in Cartier frames
I sprayed your frame, you changed body weight
Sacrifice you, then come back with rifles
To end your life cycle in a fly Nike boot
Motherfuccker
My hitters' in a Bonneville
My hitters' in a Bonneville
Fill you up with copper
You should stop and chill
Pop a pill, get your wig peeled
Kaos straight up
Smoke a lot of pot like Prop Joe on the co-op
My hoes got blowjobs too cool to ball
I might slow jock
I get you robbed, you move to Omaha
Ain't no hoes in my bios, only the co-sign
I let foes dry on the clothesline
My whole styles remind me of bovine
About to start my own clothing
Line and be multi don’t play both sides
You get hit and left by the roadside
My lady knows how, I'm a snob
I'd rather do crime with the mob
Than punch a time card
Your body pop out the drop like a pop tart
Nigga, don’t ever fix your face to front
We eat fake gangsters for lunch
To wet my taste buds
380 snub leave you rubbed
I had on rubber gloves
Just for pumping your gums, you got slumped
My hitters' in a Bonneville
My hitters' in a Bonneville
Fill you up with copper
You should stop and chill
Pop a pill, get your wig peeled
Danced with wolves
Learned a couple new dance moves
Your tunes Nation Lampoons
My new sedan's maroon
Might need a hot air balloon to get
A clear view of my hairdo
These squares are rare heirlooms
Muggs provide the backdrop
I crack your top and apricot
Then laughed off your plot to sabotage
Every half a bar is worth a Jaguar
As for Mar
What's on my arm's out of MadameNoire
You buying caviar Pathmark
You marks ain't even hit the halfway mark
I'm like a young Hasselhoff, satin drawers
Michael Kors velours
Hopped out the 4 door like Boston George
They gentrified the game
That's when the God came in Cartier frames
I sprayed your frame, you changed body weight
Sacrifice you, then come back with rifles
To end your life cycle in a fly Nike boot
Motherfuccker
My hitters' in a Bonneville
My hitters' in a Bonneville
Fill you up with copper
You should stop and chill
Pop a pill, get your wig peeled
Kaos straight up