Roddy Ricch

"THEROCKS"

f*ckin’ yo b*tch at the park
Lookin’ real fresh, Gucci socks
Snortin’ all the jet, all the rocks
I be shootin’ 3’s with the rock
You know that I ain’t never gettin’ rocked
Pour up the champagne girl, you know that i’m Kraaaaay-Z
Wanna get a 12 inch di*k, just follow me baaaaaby
You say my money’s old, I got the rack-racks
And you wanna get the code, but your sh*t’s wack
I won't never sell my soul, unless her ass fat
If you wanna f*ck the bro, don’t have a heart attack

Imma hit that, make it go plat (PLAT)
Driftin’ in a hot boxed hellcat (DAMN)
I be ridin with 3 b*tches, no cash back
Feelin’ like Harden, Ugly God the water
Oh my hoes so plenty, they could be my spotter
Oh these white girls wusses, b*tch go harder (oOh)
Family was traditional, had me in a charter
Little pigs talk sh*t, leave ‘em bawling
I done drive around the city while I’m high, Dodge Charger
Get some cops shook near the NYC Harbor
Lotta girls study me like they tryna go to Harvard
And they act so cute, but they ain’t no charmers
Now i’m whippin’ a corvette, fifty grams of weed, now we set
I been in the game for a while
But I’m still disrespected like a second child

f*ckin’ yo b*tch at the park
Lookin’ real fresh, Gucci socks
Snortin’ all the jet, all the rocks
I be shootin’ 3’s with the rock
You know that I ain’t never gettin’ rocked
Pour up the champagne girl, you know that i’m Kraaaaaay-Z
Wanna get a 12 inch di*k, just follow me baaaaaby
You say my money’s old, I got the rack-racks
And you wanna get the code, but your sh*t’s wack
I won't never sell my soul, unless her ass fat
If you wanna f*ck the bro, don’t have a heart attack

Oh damn, I’ve washed my hands clean
And if I don’t disclose that then I can’t whip my limousine
And if I go continue, at the start of this sh*t
That limo ain’t where I will sit
If I live with myself then, I’ll never forget again
I’ll ripen my career to the recycling bin
No matter what I do, I’ll never win
The best that I can do is live and remember my sin
I can mix coke wit a shot of gin
Then hope that I don’t awaken the next morning, sh*t
Been acting real funny, but my name’s not Jim
Carry my body bag to the dumpster bin
Don’t bury my ass, there’s nothing you can tell me, yeah
When I take the drugs, I can feel healthy, yeah

f*ckin’ yo b*tch at the park
Lookin’ real fresh, Gucci socks
Snortin’ all the jet, all the rocks
I be shootin’ 3’s with the rock
You know that I ain’t never gettin’ rocked
Pour up the champagne girl, you know that i’m Kraaaaaay-Z
Wanna get a 12 inch di*k, just follow me baaaaaby
You say my money’s old, I got the rack-racks
And you wanna get the code, but your sh*t’s wack
I won't never sell my soul, unless her ass fat
If you wanna f*ck the bro, don’t have a heart attack

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