Rolling Stone

Rah Swish, Don Q - Rolling Stone Lyrics

3

Rolling Stone Lyrics

I'm Mike Jack with the red leather
I'm a Rollin' Stone like Jagger, uh
Slide and strike, I don't do no title
This clip longer than a ladder
Lil' baddie, get treeshy
Put her hair up in a bun and get nakey
She twerk on the couch with her tongue out
She want me fuck from the back with my gun out

Up, up, up
Bitch, I'm way, way, way up
They better uh, uh, duck
I let it spray, they play tough
They wanna game, tell 'em, "Lace up"
I took his chain, it ain't weigh much
Soon as I'm done, see you later
She left my pillowcase with make-up

Them niggas lame, said they want smoke with us
Boy you gotta brain, watch what you throwin' up
I don't gotta aim, .30 loaded up
Like we work at Starlets, keep a pole with us
You said drew the shooter, you don't tote enough
You could get a shot like you old enough
She ate the whole dick, got her throwin' up
She wanna take a picture, I don't pose enough
I got a shootin' stars ceilin'
And I keep a couple broads in 'em
Yeah, I'm a rapper but I let it sing
We got that boogie down feelin'
I got a shootin' stars ceilin'
And I keep a couple broads in 'em
Yeah, I'm a rapper but I let it sing
We got that boogie down feelin' (boogie down feelin')

I'm Mike Jack with the red leather
I'm a Rollin' Stone like Jagger, uh
Slide and strike, I don't do no title
This clip longer than a ladder
Lil' baddie, get treeshy
Put her hair up in a bun and get nakey
She twerk on the couch with her tongue out
She want me fuck from the back with my gun out

Up, up, up
Bitch, I'm way, way, way up
They better uh, uh, duck
I let it spray, they play tough
They wanna game, tell 'em, "Lace up"
I took his chain, it ain't weigh much
Soon as I'm done, see you later
She left my pillowcase with make-up

I gotta treesh that come from the east
We go to the Madre and fuck in the suite
She call me a trick, I give her a treat
Just look at her body, that's somethin' to keep
Look at this bitch, keep her on fleek
She got designer from head to the feet
Look at this wrist, look at this piece
You might get bodied, them niggas come read
We in the spot 'cause the sun out
She let me hit from the back with my gun out
She throw it back with her tongue out
I'm 'bout to cum and she tellin' me, "Come out"
We the ones orderin' ones 'til they run out
Tell security I ain't puttin' this bun out
We got too many goes gettin' treeshy
Put her hair up in a bun and get neeky
Yeah, yeah
I feel like Biggie Smalls with the Coogi on
And the Kangol to the side
Niggas be talkin' the shit about places they said that I can't go 'til I arrive
My lil' scammer bitch runnin' it up
And she just got a Range Rove' for a ride
I'm takin' Adderalls mixed with the za
Gotta get high, I'm tryna stay

Up, up, up
Bitch, I'm way, way, way up
They better uh, uh, duck
I let it spray, they play tough
They wanna game, tell 'em, "Lace up"
I took his chain, it ain't weigh much
Soon as I'm done, see you later
She left my pillowcase with make-up

Writer(s): Ashton Webb, Brandon Greene, Brendan Walsh, Christopher Deroux Brown, Henry Olisa, Jasper Murray, Le'Quincy Anderson, Luis Compazano, Matt Nadler, Nigel Brathwaite Jr., Rahlique Wilks
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Downtown Music Publishing
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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