You Betta Know It

Rome Streetz

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    Uh, check
    Fast money off of bags that I passed junkies
    Pull your bitch and I smash she a crash dummy
    Your racks bummy, I stay fly in the finest
    Keep tools move in silence where it's wild violence
    Stay wise try to find solace
    Lil' niggas lose hope cause they folks smoke coke then solid
    It's fucked but I'm still out for profit
    Love the dough like chris wallace
    Slick posture, drug flip scholar, trick nada
    Make em' sniff out of crisp dollars
    Till they freeze up, keep freaks on they knees suckin' my seed up
    I'm re'd-up by the bodega started with small weight came up now my dough flow major
    Nobody gave me shit bitch I'm doing no favors
    Semi-auto with the lasers, blast turn ya face to mashed potatoes
    Blow the cartridge like the old sega
    If you owe paper, roll shakers
    Life's a dice game, my minds enticed by a vice you want stripes, a million dollars or an iced chain
    Or all three been raw since niggas wore tore tees
    Nobody fuckin' with the lord streetz
    (Nobody)

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    Composición: Jerome Allen

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