Rollinn Jinn (Prelude) [& YRN Stitch] Lyrics

(Hell Yea)

(You ain't finna' start it up?)

(Ay we finna' start it up anyways)

Bands out, bands in the truck is a overload

One by one like a episode can't be to direct so they won't know

Told them keep it lowkey when we on go

Generally statin' make sure that you get dough

Take down yo' foe, kick down yo door

Nigga stand on yo' ten toes

These hoes a just eat yo' pockets then go

Record in the booth and my Gucci stay on

I'm still tryna see what these niggas be, nah

They stay on some dick that's what niggas be on

Came in this bitch strong leave out with yo' throne

And you know what it is

And you know we ain't wrong

Sat in the backend felt I waited to long

Bitch!

I'm gone out my body don't know what this is

Fuck rollin' stone bitch I'm Rollinn' Jinn'

Bitch I roll like a can with no canister in

Like a top make em' spin' index fingers over my chin

Touch my palms then I say amen

She tryna do some that won't never help

187, we goin' to hell

Gucci my jacket and Fendi my belt

No I won't lie but won't never help

Concrete beds, hot, cold, cells

Yea we slid on his block and made him we run up off it

Yea that boy tried to run but we slide and we hawked em'

Then we slid to his funeral and pissed on his coffin

I'm smokin' on Za and I can't stop coughin'

I can't fuck with you hoes, yea y'all bitches exhaustin'

And I don't give a fuck like that nigga Stone Cold if you run up on me that's the end of the road

Yo' bitch a lil' freak gave me top in the store

I hang with them killers that's wipin'

I fuck on yo' bitch then I turn to a ghost

Y'all niggas be lame y'all gon' talk through a post

You play with the gang, then we uppin' the score

We got yo' boy gone that's like three in a row

And I'm with all the smoke mom ain't raise no hoe

(Tuh, Yea, Yadigg)

(Shout out foota man, that nigga K Ent too you already know what goin' on)