Roll Up, Poe Up
My pocket full of them hundreds
Finna roll up this weed
All my bitches they got bitches
And all my weed come with no seeds
Roll up, roll up, roll up
(This your boy Premro)
Poe up, poe up, poe up… (yeah)
Roll up, roll up, roll up… (Premro 2)
Poe up, poe up, poe up
Yeaaah! I’m pulled up with my bad bitch
Ice cross, Styrofoam, never plastic
Flying through the country like
The dukes of hazard
My mom & dad weren’t married
Guess I’m a fat bastard but hoes love it
But I hate them ho that do too much
I don’t wonder this shit 'bout
Who you know & who you fuck
That’s not my business
I’m tryin’ to get acquainted
With yo' jaw bone get yours, get mine
Then we can blow some shit on
Lionel Richie, all night long
Pop a rolling stone
Under my hat, that’s my home
Deep, never no fake shit come between my lips
My nig' fuck all haters
Roll up, roll up, roll up
Poe up, poe up, poe up
Roll up, roll up, roll up
Poe up, poe up, poe up
My weed come with no seeds
My bitch come with no draws
Them diamonds ain’t got no flaws
And I ain’t no respect for the law
Ain’t got no love for these niggas
Nigga I don’t wanna talk, talk to my pistol
I ain’t got no love for these hoes
I ain’t shouldn’t talk about bitch
Talk to my dick yup!
These hoes they make me sick
They say I’m with the shit
But really I’m not but maybe I am
But I don’t give a damn
I’m tryin to get my auntie
To sign for this lamb uh!
She jumped to a whole 'nother subject
Talkin’ about where you get 250 grand
I said never mind I go and ask my
Red big booty nurse bitch named Pamelaaa
You know what up with me
You know I’m in this streets
And I kill beats and I’m caked up
Fuck boy, don’t play with me
That four nickel, that stay with me
If you smokin’ beverage get away from me
Need a one liter Sprite & some ice
8-Ball I got a tray with me
All this killa I got in my swisha
It seem like a nigga is
All about killin’ himself
Way the fire the weed, the higher I get
I guess I just chasin’ my death
Pour up, some of that potion in my coffee cup
Roll up! Some of that gas
Nigga don’t trap black black black
Black on black on black is the Llac
Manicured nails, they bumpin' my sack
Heard she roll much better than me
Waist super-small, ass super-fat
Told Siri hate my nigga Ball
‘Cause you know that’s what we finna do
Tell my nigga I got them hoes
And you know that we finna come through
Mr Mud Island hoes on my jaw
I ain’t even sayin’ nothin’
Her mouth on my cock
It’s that life that I live from that BAZ
Till that ATM pockets super swell