Isaiah Rashad - Ronnie Drake lyrics
[Isaiah Rashad - Ronnie Drake lyrics]
I mean i mean, I been thinking
Nah alright, Rob, this the one, last one
Check me out you sure?
So don't call me a nigga
Unless you call me "my nigga"
I'm a king, OE be slipping
Falling from my chalice, ugh
Don't mind the bumper that was
Missing from my carriage, ugh
It's poorly tinted
But my women not embarrassed
I came to bury you average
Uh, you feel slighted, ayy
It's like she know that I got it
It feel like it
Ayy, I real-life it, ayy, I spill vices
Ayy, you will like it, I
Promise it's trill vomit, i'm honest
Nigga, ain't no getting money
On that conscious shit
I'ma just load my gat on some survival shit
And when I hear they got a drought on it
I take a month out of rap
And I hustle 'til I'm out of it
I got that coke flow, ugh, that heat rock
I got that old school, huddle to the beat box
Baby, I'm just digging in your
Gushy for the sweet spot
I'ma beat that, 'til that
Motherfucking beat drop, bitch!
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas
Ayy, hope they don't kill you
'cause you Black today
They only feel you when you pass away
The eulogy be so moving
We live the scenes of those movies
Conflict in school or dope moving
It's so youthful but if you die today
I hope you findin' some relief, oh
What a great escape
We still dodging from polices when
We make a plate they lying
Searching in my bucket with
The straightest face it could be '88
Sometimes, I wonder why we killers
Why they killing us i think we only wear a
Grill because they grilling us
Or how they feeling us
Gotta look real and tough
Gotta keep your hands in the cart
Know you stealing stuff
Came a long way from a boat and an auction
Now, we got names and a vote, then a coffin
Ain't shit change but the coast we adopted
Little Black children
You can call me "that nigga" nigga
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my nigga
Nah alright, Rob, this the one, last one
Check me out you sure?
So don't call me a nigga
Unless you call me "my nigga"
I'm a king, OE be slipping
Falling from my chalice, ugh
Don't mind the bumper that was
Missing from my carriage, ugh
It's poorly tinted
But my women not embarrassed
I came to bury you average
Uh, you feel slighted, ayy
It's like she know that I got it
It feel like it
Ayy, I real-life it, ayy, I spill vices
Ayy, you will like it, I
Promise it's trill vomit, i'm honest
Nigga, ain't no getting money
On that conscious shit
I'ma just load my gat on some survival shit
And when I hear they got a drought on it
I take a month out of rap
And I hustle 'til I'm out of it
I got that coke flow, ugh, that heat rock
I got that old school, huddle to the beat box
Baby, I'm just digging in your
Gushy for the sweet spot
I'ma beat that, 'til that
Motherfucking beat drop, bitch!
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas
Ayy, hope they don't kill you
'cause you Black today
They only feel you when you pass away
The eulogy be so moving
We live the scenes of those movies
Conflict in school or dope moving
It's so youthful but if you die today
I hope you findin' some relief, oh
What a great escape
We still dodging from polices when
We make a plate they lying
Searching in my bucket with
The straightest face it could be '88
Sometimes, I wonder why we killers
Why they killing us i think we only wear a
Grill because they grilling us
Or how they feeling us
Gotta look real and tough
Gotta keep your hands in the cart
Know you stealing stuff
Came a long way from a boat and an auction
Now, we got names and a vote, then a coffin
Ain't shit change but the coast we adopted
Little Black children
You can call me "that nigga" nigga
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my niggas, my killers
My dealers, my trickers, my bros
I got love for my sisters, my women
My bitches, my strippers, my hoes
I got love for my nigga