Wiz Khalifa, Smoke DZA - Rowland lyrics
Wiz Khalifa [Cameron Jibril Thomaz] Minot, North Dakota/Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Wiz Khalifa, Smoke DZA - Rowland lyrics]
Still 2050, nigga ain't goin' nowhere
Haha, that was hard yeah, yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah, uh yeah yeah
Uh, uh
Rollin' up a seal, blowin' up but still
Goin' hard
I'm on my job like I ain't sittin' on a mil'
Now filet mignon come with every meal
I swear to God that I'm so high
Feel like I'm goin' up a hill
Car marijuana coated
Paid two hundred and fifty thousand for
It, still hop in that thing
Ride like I stole it
I'm talkin' vacation island resorting
I made eleven million nigga
Without any endorsements
Took the niggas out I was
Out on the porch with
To Saint Tropes to race them
In Audis and Porsches
Bentleys and Rolls, plenty of smoke
Thousands for weed, Fendi's for clothes
I remember I couldn't get shit back
Then when I was broke
Now that I'm rich, everything's for the low
So I could give a fuck 'bout what they sayin'
'Cause they wasn't with me way back in
The day when a nigga was just
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
Mackin', Hangin'
Rowland, Getting that paper (Riiiiightt)
We living' life, shit
The bud is never-ending
Kush God, Bob Marley on my pendant
You know that low is the life that I'm living
Ralph Lauren always keep a nigga spending
Word i can't lie, it's the truth
A stack for these joints
Five hundred a boot, double RL
I don't do Trues that ain't for me
Gettin' money
Killin' shows in the home of the maple leaf
These rap niggas live in
A land of make-believe
Jimmity Cricket ass niggas ain't cool
Enough to fool with us
Nah, cool table geeks play the back
Haters play the side door
Jet Life, Taylor Gang what you ride for?
We keeping the ends, competition is slim
In case you lookin' for them
Niggas, have no fear, we are them
Corner the market, gettin' money
Rolling Stoned
Young Khalifa, rugby rohdes, right
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
You know
I know people in Pittsburgh might be like
"Well he's not from the 'Burgh"
And then, you know
Young rappers might be like
"Well, he's a veteran, signed to a young guy"
You know what I'm sayin'?
Everybody seems to have an opinion on-on, on
We all grew up on motherfuckin'
Three Six in Pittsburgh
And anybody who don't understand it
Or don't see it
It's just 'cause they aren't meant to
They aren't built
They don't have the fuckin' mind capacity
To understand that this motherfucker
Influenced everything I do up 'til this point
As far as songwriting
As far as motherfuckin' beat selection
As far as all of that shit
Haha, that was hard yeah, yeah yeah
Yeah, yeah yeah yeah
Yeah, uh yeah yeah
Uh, uh
Rollin' up a seal, blowin' up but still
Goin' hard
I'm on my job like I ain't sittin' on a mil'
Now filet mignon come with every meal
I swear to God that I'm so high
Feel like I'm goin' up a hill
Car marijuana coated
Paid two hundred and fifty thousand for
It, still hop in that thing
Ride like I stole it
I'm talkin' vacation island resorting
I made eleven million nigga
Without any endorsements
Took the niggas out I was
Out on the porch with
To Saint Tropes to race them
In Audis and Porsches
Bentleys and Rolls, plenty of smoke
Thousands for weed, Fendi's for clothes
I remember I couldn't get shit back
Then when I was broke
Now that I'm rich, everything's for the low
So I could give a fuck 'bout what they sayin'
'Cause they wasn't with me way back in
The day when a nigga was just
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
Mackin', Hangin'
Rowland, Getting that paper (Riiiiightt)
We living' life, shit
The bud is never-ending
Kush God, Bob Marley on my pendant
You know that low is the life that I'm living
Ralph Lauren always keep a nigga spending
Word i can't lie, it's the truth
A stack for these joints
Five hundred a boot, double RL
I don't do Trues that ain't for me
Gettin' money
Killin' shows in the home of the maple leaf
These rap niggas live in
A land of make-believe
Jimmity Cricket ass niggas ain't cool
Enough to fool with us
Nah, cool table geeks play the back
Haters play the side door
Jet Life, Taylor Gang what you ride for?
We keeping the ends, competition is slim
In case you lookin' for them
Niggas, have no fear, we are them
Corner the market, gettin' money
Rolling Stoned
Young Khalifa, rugby rohdes, right
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
Mackin', Hangin' rowland, Gettin' that paper
You know
I know people in Pittsburgh might be like
"Well he's not from the 'Burgh"
And then, you know
Young rappers might be like
"Well, he's a veteran, signed to a young guy"
You know what I'm sayin'?
Everybody seems to have an opinion on-on, on
We all grew up on motherfuckin'
Three Six in Pittsburgh
And anybody who don't understand it
Or don't see it
It's just 'cause they aren't meant to
They aren't built
They don't have the fuckin' mind capacity
To understand that this motherfucker
Influenced everything I do up 'til this point
As far as songwriting
As far as motherfuckin' beat selection
As far as all of that shit