Rome Streetz - Rich Porter Or Pookie lyrics
Rome Streetz [Jerome Allen] London, U.K./Queens, NY, US 🇬🇧 🇺🇸
[Rome Streetz - Rich Porter Or Pookie lyrics]
Ayo fuck a handout I get my own
I don't need ya ends
We was whippin' work with the
Stove pilot on medium
Weird niggas cappin' about trappin' we
Not believing them
I drop it a point if you comin'
To cop at least a ten
Gotta couple poppin' spots
Like cheetah print me and my guys divide the
Pie even thirty three percent
Mommy said please repent I'm sinning heavy
Still touching bloody money ducking dirty
D's in the chevy
Kept the pieces in the sleeve of my Pelly
So I can serve you right quick with ease
Just have all of my cheese ready
That's how it operates
You ain't fly you just
Dick ride other niggas
Cause you ain't got no poppin' trait's
We out for the cake
Pretty thots and lobster plates
Fly rocks coppin' potent products
That they gotta taste
Lock jaws to the zombies by
My grand mamas place
Ain't got no time to waste
You dropped a tape don't give that
Bullshit no time of day (FACTS)
Every time I rhyme it's bombs away
Can't fuck with nothing that the don display
On your best day, claim king nigga checkmate
See through you fraudulent niggas
Like an X ray we blow trees and pop bottles
On an opps death date
For the rest got something hot
For your chest plate (bow bow)
Motherfuckers
Blowin' trees
Stone island patches on the sleeve
Been active blow the ratchet for the cream
Fuck you mean? Bout that action
Homie fuck a dream
Is you the dealer or the fuckin' fiend?
Blowin' trees
Stone island patches on the sleeve
Been active blow the ratchet for the cream
Fuck you mean? Bout that action
Homie fuck a dream
Is you the dealer or the fuckin' fiend?
Pay the price fuck your lowball cash offers
We don't trust knock-off rockers
And fast talkers since a chirp I had orders
For the bag snorters
Now my thoughts is played
All across foreign waters
Anything I'm on slaughter
Was selling molly to your daughter by the
Store before I saw a tour bus
Ain't shit changed but the
Size of the package
And the nigga that's inside of the casket
With the top closed mad stiff thirty thousand
Hours got it more than mastered
So when I rap with whoever be
Sure to get they ass kicked
My rap style is foul
Forty-Cals and acid tablets
Tribulations and trials dirty dough
In my baggage chicks I made put the work by
They pussy to stash it
Speedin' fast on the road
To everything lavish
Blowin' smoke viewin' snakes through
These Carti glasses
I chop they head they blood
Splat on my jacket fabric
I get mine cause my game intact
Better be some of the illest shit you
Ever heard if my name attached
Dope to fiends hear faithfully
Till they veins collapse
Buy and sell it three times what
I paid I'm making back
I don't need ya ends
We was whippin' work with the
Stove pilot on medium
Weird niggas cappin' about trappin' we
Not believing them
I drop it a point if you comin'
To cop at least a ten
Gotta couple poppin' spots
Like cheetah print me and my guys divide the
Pie even thirty three percent
Mommy said please repent I'm sinning heavy
Still touching bloody money ducking dirty
D's in the chevy
Kept the pieces in the sleeve of my Pelly
So I can serve you right quick with ease
Just have all of my cheese ready
That's how it operates
You ain't fly you just
Dick ride other niggas
Cause you ain't got no poppin' trait's
We out for the cake
Pretty thots and lobster plates
Fly rocks coppin' potent products
That they gotta taste
Lock jaws to the zombies by
My grand mamas place
Ain't got no time to waste
You dropped a tape don't give that
Bullshit no time of day (FACTS)
Every time I rhyme it's bombs away
Can't fuck with nothing that the don display
On your best day, claim king nigga checkmate
See through you fraudulent niggas
Like an X ray we blow trees and pop bottles
On an opps death date
For the rest got something hot
For your chest plate (bow bow)
Motherfuckers
Blowin' trees
Stone island patches on the sleeve
Been active blow the ratchet for the cream
Fuck you mean? Bout that action
Homie fuck a dream
Is you the dealer or the fuckin' fiend?
Blowin' trees
Stone island patches on the sleeve
Been active blow the ratchet for the cream
Fuck you mean? Bout that action
Homie fuck a dream
Is you the dealer or the fuckin' fiend?
Pay the price fuck your lowball cash offers
We don't trust knock-off rockers
And fast talkers since a chirp I had orders
For the bag snorters
Now my thoughts is played
All across foreign waters
Anything I'm on slaughter
Was selling molly to your daughter by the
Store before I saw a tour bus
Ain't shit changed but the
Size of the package
And the nigga that's inside of the casket
With the top closed mad stiff thirty thousand
Hours got it more than mastered
So when I rap with whoever be
Sure to get they ass kicked
My rap style is foul
Forty-Cals and acid tablets
Tribulations and trials dirty dough
In my baggage chicks I made put the work by
They pussy to stash it
Speedin' fast on the road
To everything lavish
Blowin' smoke viewin' snakes through
These Carti glasses
I chop they head they blood
Splat on my jacket fabric
I get mine cause my game intact
Better be some of the illest shit you
Ever heard if my name attached
Dope to fiends hear faithfully
Till they veins collapse
Buy and sell it three times what
I paid I'm making back