Rollie

[Intro] Yeah Taking everything from the top WAV We in here getting everything they said we couldn’t have [Hook] Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel [Verse 1] I drink champagne for breakfast Have champagne for brunch Take a nap in my office Then stunt on niggas for lunch No I do not need much Just gold bottles, gold models, gold chains A Ferrari that be switching lanes, and a pinky ring I’m a pimp by relation You’s a ho by relationship Spending all that time chasing that dame Boy that make me sick I stack so much bread That they call me Wonder Nigga I need a new passport For all the time spent down under Yeah, she come like she running late I eat that bitch up like a dinner date So much Pinot I ain’t thinking straight Waiting on me to fall like the summer late I be balling long distance in other states Put up numbers like I rock the number eight And white bitches love me like summer lakes And my shooter next to me like running mates I’m flipping numbers like Uno I’m the realest nigga you know So Rodger that, nigga 10-4 Pull up with the pipe loud But you know I got the tint low Driveway looking like a Benz show You be in a rental Still live at home cause your rent low Nigga I be with the gold grills, and the black hat With my brim low, learned that from the OG's Niggas stay stacking Rollies [Hook] Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel [Verse 2: Iceman] Grind to the max Fuck paying tax I told my bitch I’ll be back when I’m back I’m spitting on wax, stacking my racks Thirty-eight right in my waist when I rap Don’t trip Jack, I’m Slater no Zach Got saved by a whole bell of that crack I’m a quarterback, Kobe with the Mack But actually I can shoot better than that Master with P’s, sell it for the G’s Ain’t no limit if you trying to cop some keys Rollie by my sleeve, I’mma pimpanese Malcolm X, complex by any means Japanese denim on all of my jeans Every day thing, leave by the CREAM Wu-Tang complex since I was a teen Now I’m getting older, weight on my shoulder Feeling like Atlas trying to hold the world up When I’m just trying to hold my fam and my girl up But they ain’t understand my X-files like I was Scully and Mulder This Kush and a Xan got me really unsober But I’m too much of a soldier To let these drugs take over Had to cop some work, send it OT Just to get them loafers [Hook] Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get them Gucci and them Louis leathers Nigga I’mma grind in any fucking weather Just to get that Rollie with that fucking bezel