Rome Streetz, Royalz, Al.divino - Pyrex Pot Poetry lyrics
Rome Streetz [Jerome Allen] London, U.K./Queens, NY, US 🇬🇧 🇺🇸
[Rome Streetz, Royalz, Al.divino - Pyrex Pot Poetry lyrics]
"When nearly eighty percent
Of American families
Invite you into their homes
These are something special
Welcome to the world of
Pyrex glass bakeware"
Yo, Yo hundred pot of bitter sliding
Dealing what you need? (I got whatever)
Pyrex plus degrees
Always something up the sleeve (yur)
Cut your bitch you bleed the same (uhuh)
Made so much off the plug
Told him "Keep the change" (keep that)
Catalogue cost a key of 'Caine (woo)
Back sound like adlibs from Lil
Fame and Billy Danzе (Brrrrt)
Pistol whip you with it if the blicky jam
Eliminate thе middle man
Get it from the source
Smoke you like loose ports (Smoke)
No pallet in my Stone Island shorts (Stone)
By the rhyme time warp
Light you up like July Fourth (Blow)
Need a Porsche Panamera with suicide doors
(Skrrt)
Supply substances to customers sit over the
Stove while the butters cook (Swim)
Hundred blunts and a cup of Hen'
My bitch rock a fur like Foxy Brown (What?)
Four pound in her purse
Turn to Bermuda if the cops around (uhuh)
Then he made bape shit, bakers mit'
Paper flip
No plays, then we'd play the strip
(We out here)
It's pay to get, night and day the yayo flip
(uhuh) fuck a JO
Bitch around my way I'm the fiends favorite
(yuh) fuck a fade
Left my foes faces with a razor rip
This raves for a roach I wrote
Dope come and take a sniff (uhuh)
Vacant strip
Clippin' with the two for thirties
(Real shit) do you dirty like life is in
A box with a rusty Ox' truck me Ock'
If cops rush ya' spot
Better flush your stock (Flush it)
Poetry from out the Pyrex pot or
Piles of paper we plot
Won't stop 'till we got a lot (Facts)
For years I was paying rent
Of the molly rocks (uhuh)
Now the plans change need acres
And a Mazzi' drop (Real)
Streetz name ringing from Japan
To the Colley Block (All over)
'Cause I been a god
Everything you motty' goons not (Strapped)
Ya' lines fabricated
My friends flourish off the food with the
Fentanyl seen the fetti' we salivated
My grandfather ask me "Where I work?"
I'm an entrepreneur I quadruple
What my package worth (uhuh)
Before I spend the bread I stack it first
And If my friend turn foe he can
Relax in the back of Hearse
(Brrrrat) , nigga
Of American families
Invite you into their homes
These are something special
Welcome to the world of
Pyrex glass bakeware"
Yo, Yo hundred pot of bitter sliding
Dealing what you need? (I got whatever)
Pyrex plus degrees
Always something up the sleeve (yur)
Cut your bitch you bleed the same (uhuh)
Made so much off the plug
Told him "Keep the change" (keep that)
Catalogue cost a key of 'Caine (woo)
Back sound like adlibs from Lil
Fame and Billy Danzе (Brrrrt)
Pistol whip you with it if the blicky jam
Eliminate thе middle man
Get it from the source
Smoke you like loose ports (Smoke)
No pallet in my Stone Island shorts (Stone)
By the rhyme time warp
Light you up like July Fourth (Blow)
Need a Porsche Panamera with suicide doors
(Skrrt)
Supply substances to customers sit over the
Stove while the butters cook (Swim)
Hundred blunts and a cup of Hen'
My bitch rock a fur like Foxy Brown (What?)
Four pound in her purse
Turn to Bermuda if the cops around (uhuh)
Then he made bape shit, bakers mit'
Paper flip
No plays, then we'd play the strip
(We out here)
It's pay to get, night and day the yayo flip
(uhuh) fuck a JO
Bitch around my way I'm the fiends favorite
(yuh) fuck a fade
Left my foes faces with a razor rip
This raves for a roach I wrote
Dope come and take a sniff (uhuh)
Vacant strip
Clippin' with the two for thirties
(Real shit) do you dirty like life is in
A box with a rusty Ox' truck me Ock'
If cops rush ya' spot
Better flush your stock (Flush it)
Poetry from out the Pyrex pot or
Piles of paper we plot
Won't stop 'till we got a lot (Facts)
For years I was paying rent
Of the molly rocks (uhuh)
Now the plans change need acres
And a Mazzi' drop (Real)
Streetz name ringing from Japan
To the Colley Block (All over)
'Cause I been a god
Everything you motty' goons not (Strapped)
Ya' lines fabricated
My friends flourish off the food with the
Fentanyl seen the fetti' we salivated
My grandfather ask me "Where I work?"
I'm an entrepreneur I quadruple
What my package worth (uhuh)
Before I spend the bread I stack it first
And If my friend turn foe he can
Relax in the back of Hearse
(Brrrrat) , nigga