Shouts to the Mobb / Medusa
Shouts to the Mobb / Medusa

Flee Lord, Roc Marciano ft. Conway the Machine - Shouts to the Mobb / Medusa Lyrics

5

Shouts to the Mobb / Medusa Lyrics

Ayo, Roc, the fuck is good, woe?
Uh huh, uh huh, okay, okay
Uh huh, uh huh, okay

LordMobb (LordMobb) remember the stutter step
Killed the lobster
Ain't nothin' but lemon and butter left
Blue ribbon for the chef
Couple thou' on my left
I'm callin' up TF if I'm out on the West
Ridin' out with Funk
It's some fire in the trunk
Dope just banged my line
He said he flyin' out at once
Back out on East, ask Jag how we feast
Eat those small, buddy
Drag that black mag out the seat
Mephux and Trill turn the heat up, no chill
Ayo, Bangs let it hang like a D-cup for real
Gonna call Act, he my gunner on track
Shady took his bag and bought
A hundred more gats
I come with all facts, got bums in all black
Once Frenchie clean the beat
We drummin' off that
(Uh huh, uh huh, okay, okay)
I said Frenchie clean the beat
We drummin' off that
Uh huh, uh huh, okay, okay
(Yo Vic Spence, what's good, woe?)
Uh huh, uh huh, okay (Scythe)
Yeah, we in New Orleans too, ay!
It never occurred to me the beautiful words
Would be the way that I'd express myself
What I'm trying to say in such a fancy way
Is "Girl, can I help?"

Blrrt! Okay, okay (Boom boom)
Let's go, woe (Boom boom) lord Lord!

About to set up a tour
(About to set up a tour)
No more wettin up your door (Grrrr)
Drum professionals and whores
(Drum professionals and whores)
All respectin' us for sure
(yeah) connectin' us with raw (yeah)
Lord protection in the drawer
My whole section, we was poor
Got busy, then we went and opened up a store
Roll my choppers in the crib
But I blow 'em on my lawn
Sayin' prayers for my peers
Act holdin' his Quran
We all soldiers from beyond
Controlling more than pawns
Flee, I walk through hell fire
Time frozen on my arm
All my pockets full and demure, 'bout to pull
Checkin' raw, Gucci silk with Dior
Got the wool got the money, stay clickin'
Eatin' honey-glazed chicken
Every gang got the music heard
We runnin' eight prisons
Sippin' white Henny with the red grenadine
We was grubbin like it's nothing
'til the feds intervened

Rock like Medusa headed
(Rock like Medusa headed)
Block full of crucifixes
(Block full of crucifixes)
Image vivid, spooky with it
(image vivid, spooky with it)
Stupid when the water hit it
(Stupid when the water hit it)

Bust a 40 'til it's empty
I'm on tour with the extendi
Bunch of foreign shit in my driveway
My shorty get the Bentley
I can't share my throne with
These niggas no more, i'm just too stingy
I come in rockin' SBs that
Cost more than your Balencis
Look, the flow like raw cocaine
Snorted through a Benji
I jumped off the porch in elementary, man
All these niggas too iffy
Set it up to get more than me
You always was against me
Bet it hurt them niggas more
To see me winning, look
Selling cracks before the deal, corner store
Lil kids findin' 40 shells
Now look, I'm 'bout to close
A deal for forty, chill
Niggas say they gettin' to a bag
Well I can hardly tell
No lie, a label offered me five
I said "You short two mil'"
Time for a tortoise shell
Big pointers on my wrist
My shit look like a water spill
Bricks come in from Florida still
I only tell you half the story
But it's more to tell
Machine, bitch, ah (Blrrrt)

Rock like Medusa headed
(Rock like Medusa headed)
Block full of crucifixes
(Block full of crucifixes)
Image vivid, spooky with it
(image vivid, spooky with it)
Stupid when the water hit it
(Stupid when the water hit it)

Writer(s): DAVID PAUL CORDOVA, DEMOND PRICE, RAHKEIM C MEYER
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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