Rolling Home ft. CG Lyrics

See the chain gone swing and the bottles gone pop

Me and the gang love rolling up Opps

See the chain gone swing and the bottles gone pop

Me and the gang love rolling up Opps

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Steal the mic when I decide to rap, David Ruffin

Still don't take shit serious, shooting all the dozens

Trying to get me out my ways, but I wasn't budging

Where I'm from bullies get bullied, boogie cousins

I'm a feign for that Getty green and a couple of lean

Kill my spleen, with that dirty stream, see it in my dreams

But bitch I'm clean, fresh like Maybelline, have her on a string

Get in between, then I make her sing, it's a movie scene

Bitch we rolling

Riding with the gang in the back, they be toting

Bottles on bottles, no wonder we ain't focused

Got a little bad bitch, put it in her throat, shit

Have her going… yeah that bitch she choking

Soaking

Legs be wide open

Slip it in between like I'm inserting a token

You bogus, hopeless

Rambo got the motion

Put her ass to sleep like I conjured up a potion

See the chain gone swing and the bottles gone pop

Me and the gang love rolling up Opps

See the chain gone swing and the bottles gone pop

Me and the gang love rolling up Opps

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Bitch we rolling, roll them up

Rolling, roll them up

Rolling with my cuddy

Five AM with five blunts

A Glock by my stomach

Fitted with the patches

Knock them off a bit of nothing

I ain't from the jets, I'm still legit

Dope in the oven

Choppers under guest covers

I ain't intimidated by the killers

Grew up with gorillas

Trading war stories in deepest trench of Memphis

Had a pole, a long nose, like Scottie Pippen

On the road, with three bowls, I know I'm tripping

Drunk as hell, my eyes closed, I failed to mention

How the hell, I got there, I got skills

Eye ball, with no scales, I'm with them members

Fin dog, with fentanyl, mobbing in Memphis

Buddy popping with them switches

Tweaking off them Jiggas

I'm a fuck her until she tremble

Shit, I'm Tatum off the dribble

Fuck some skinnies, I couldn't fit the racks or my glizzy

Dark liquor and backwoods rolling in my system