Rollin (feat. J Murda) - Cis100

Ha ha ha! This is real baby, this is real They love this [Chorus] Just sit back and relax, Bentley seats in the back Lil' momma we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN) Candy paint on the 'llac, shoes bigger than Shaq Chrome beamin we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN) Picture a scene from The Mack, picture me on it like that Quick get in, we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN) Yeah I rap and I act, God could be where I'm at Lil' momma we rollin (WE ROLLIN, WE ROLLIN) The P-I-M-P, the pockets are filled deep The cars are sick B, the bars is milky He hard to kill G, the God is real deep The Coupe Deville leanin, pinky ring freezin Creep with no ceiling, keep the chrome beamin Cold with no feelings, rollin, dough pealin Cruise the track, candy paint on the 'llac Shoes bigger than Shaq, lil' momma relax What he wearin on his back, is never off the rack Todd Smith custom, all the ladies lust him They with him, he crush them, we talkin 'bout a mack A purebred dog, not one of them alley cats Thorough to the max, Q-boro matter fact Ice so sharp it slice through your cataracts Hard from the wars, he tough as a battleaxe Don't hate him cause he hot, God put him where he at Fo' sho'! [Chorus] Truly got the bottles on chill, the models lookin ill V.I.P. locked down, crackin them hundred dollar bills Yankee hat low, Todd Smith the rhinestones Your chick chose him, let him bygones be bygones All these, amateur macks with they eyeballs watery Choosin honies over money that's how the order be Meanwhile he gets his statements quarterly Your starvin on the corner actin drunk and disorderly Relax in the Maybach, gettin your booze on Seats is like a couch, get your Tom Cruise on French pedicure with the Jimmy Chu's on He wanna see more he throw somethin smooth on The modern day Goldie, game better than Kobe Style dope than codeine, playin for his own team When he walk up in the spot, he lookin so clean Rubbin money in your face like cold cream [Chorus] Yeah yeah...