Roots
[Intro]
Gun full of ammo, got me feelin’ like Rambo
Smokin’ on that loud, my eyes low like a Lambo
Everywhere I go they like, “You be killin’ that [?]”
All these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]
Feelin’ like [?]
And all these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]
[Verse]
These are my roots, I came from [?]
N***as shoot from the hip [?] from the booth
Hangin’ out the window whilst I scream “What it do?”
Get the number, get the ass, bada bing, bada boom
The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juicе
My vet bitch blacker than the mothafuckin’ [?]
Hеr head game mean, and her pussy is a nuke
My bad, let’s get back to my mothafuckin’ roots
My dad wasn’t ‘round much
I was raised from the streets, from the ground up
And I was taught wasn’t nobody gon’ give me shit
That’s when I met that white girl, labeled town slut
And I shared her with other n***as ‘cause I knew behind my back she was fuckin’ with them all anyway
So I got what I could out her
Millyon Dollar Vision, baby, that was good powder
And I stood hours
I aim and I shoot, reload and repeat
Bitch, I’ma die by the cold of these streets
When kids get to dyin’, you know it’s some beef
[?] saved by the bell, I put [?]
Fuck towels, make a n***a throw in some sheets
I break smiles, make a n***a throw up some teeth
This ain’t 8 Mile, I don’t get cold in the feet
N***a, say it with your chest, act grown when you speak
Been rappin’ for years, why you can’t make a hit?
You ain’t ready to die, why you actin’ like B.I.G? (Huh)
Why you actin’ like B.I.G?
Yo’ mans is a bitch and you actin’ like him
I stand on my own, bitch, I’m possessed
All you fuckboys need to give it a rest
Bitch I’m the best, fuck what you rep
Dawg, and that’s word to the shit on my chest (Easy)
Gun full of ammo, got me feelin’ like Rambo
Smokin’ on that loud, my eyes low like a Lambo
Everywhere I go they like, “You be killin’ that [?]”
All these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]
Feelin’ like [?]
And all these cases of Chris got me feelin’ like [?]
[Verse]
These are my roots, I came from [?]
N***as shoot from the hip [?] from the booth
Hangin’ out the window whilst I scream “What it do?”
Get the number, get the ass, bada bing, bada boom
The blacker the berry, the sweeter the juicе
My vet bitch blacker than the mothafuckin’ [?]
Hеr head game mean, and her pussy is a nuke
My bad, let’s get back to my mothafuckin’ roots
My dad wasn’t ‘round much
I was raised from the streets, from the ground up
And I was taught wasn’t nobody gon’ give me shit
That’s when I met that white girl, labeled town slut
And I shared her with other n***as ‘cause I knew behind my back she was fuckin’ with them all anyway
So I got what I could out her
Millyon Dollar Vision, baby, that was good powder
And I stood hours
I aim and I shoot, reload and repeat
Bitch, I’ma die by the cold of these streets
When kids get to dyin’, you know it’s some beef
[?] saved by the bell, I put [?]
Fuck towels, make a n***a throw in some sheets
I break smiles, make a n***a throw up some teeth
This ain’t 8 Mile, I don’t get cold in the feet
N***a, say it with your chest, act grown when you speak
Been rappin’ for years, why you can’t make a hit?
You ain’t ready to die, why you actin’ like B.I.G? (Huh)
Why you actin’ like B.I.G?
Yo’ mans is a bitch and you actin’ like him
I stand on my own, bitch, I’m possessed
All you fuckboys need to give it a rest
Bitch I’m the best, fuck what you rep
Dawg, and that’s word to the shit on my chest (Easy)