DJ Muggs, Roc Marciano - Dolph Lundgren lyrics

Trust ain’t ever been my strongest attribute
Uh i’m not tripping
I’m just doing what I have to do
This rapping blues, it just
Comes natural, you jacking, fool
I’m too valuable to be
Hanging around you dudes, uh
Don’t let this silky soft skin fool ya
My heart is cooler than winters in Vancouver
Pull the Grand Coupe up
It’s brand new like Grand Puba
I keep good shooters
We like the Indiana Hoosiers
Uh, I put something sharp in your plumbing
I’m not the one to come and fuck with
Youngin i bust your shit like Dolph Lundgren
Yeah, I’m still with the dumb shit
Uh, i8 with the transparent doors
Hoes pop that pussy on the handstand for us
I’m a force in Air Force, backdoor
My bitch like Tracy Ellies Ross
Don’t ever sell yourself short
Running errands in the red McLaren
Blaring Gil-Scott Heron while niggas pill
Pop and sip syrup
Rock the Bally kicks with arrogance
You got hit, the battle commence
We straddling the fence
Two hundred pounds condense
The foundation of the house
Is brick and cement, man
Bow down and submit

Yeah, you heard me, nigga, bow the fuck down
You heard me
Watch out, watch out, nigga, huh, check it

Mink disabled
Take the chain and bring it in for appraisal
Be grateful I don’t come put
Two in your grapefruit
While I chainsmoke, diamond chains choke
My face is like Johnny Fontaine’s
Drive the Mercedes slow
I need ‘em to see this
The scene resembles Egypt
I was lucid dreaming while
Squeezing my beautiful penis
Behemoth, don’t treat no ho lenient
I come through shooting like
The show was greenlit, uh
Common sense’ll tell ya my diamonds
Glisten like a 10 percenter’s
My time is spent like Pimpin' Ken, my nigga
We from a different era
All my shit is tailored
All your shit’s whatever
All my shit is tailored
All your shit’s whatever
Two hundred dollar’s worth of dope
In a Swisher Sweet
Sour D, wax, Girl Scout, kief, hashish
A cash heap, free Max B, get money tax free
This actually has to be a masterpiece
I’m displaying mastery
They thought I was Robert Greene
My CDs are art gallery my hoes get the cash
I don’t burn the calorie
I don’t walk, they just carry me

Haha bitch, you mad
You gotta go
I know it sound cold, bitch, you gotta go
I’m moving on to bigger things, bitch
I’m done
Niggas, don’t y’all ever get it fucked up
Nigga there’s only one, nigga, that’s me
Nigga, that’s me, baby
Don’t you ever get it fucked up, boy
Fucking suckers, yeah
But it’s all in love, nigga
This banging’s all in love, nigga
It’s gon’ hurt me more than
It’s gon’ hurt you daddy’s home