Lil Poppa — Roger That

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Текст Lil Poppa — Roger That

Sun down to sun up
When I’m around, they don’t never put the guns down
My brother told me I cost too much to risk
And on top of that, I be talking too much shit

But fuck it, nigga gon’ tell ’em roger that
What I do, they follow that
Don’t spit that out, gir,l swallow that
Mr. Get The Head, don’t call her back
I got groupie bitches in my DM asking for a follow back
I know niggas trap morning to P.M, 24/7, you can call the trap
I am not a rapper, baby, I don’t like to call it rap
Official book bag boy, everybody ’round me strapped
Don’t know what happened to that last boy
Ain’t nobody ’round me clap
Disrespect this shit, he on your ass, boy, that’s my lil’ soulja there

You can pull up anytime of day, bet my lil’ soulja there
Bitch, it’s over, I thought I told you that
Ayy, you too messy, why you posting that?
I can rеally tell them boys to spin that bitch
But we too closе for that
Like, we don’t know where they loafing at
No, we ain’t playing, call a coach for that
Another win, make a toast to that
Just got a call, say I’m in Rolling Stone
Thinking I’m hotter than your favorite rapper
Ain’t got a chain or a Rollie on now
Now I got to go get another phone
New number, you can’t call this one
Everybody would have the knowledge if we all listened
Tryna walk but they ain’t craw with me
I can’t trip, shit, my dawg switching
This whole different type of living
But a lot of shit ain’t y’all business
I just filled a opp ho up with back shots, all Ricky’s
Shit, I tried to let the bro hit her but I know my dawg picky

But fuck it, nigga gon’ tell ’em roger that
What I do, they follow that
Don’t spit that out, gir,l swallow that
Mr. Get The Head, don’t call her back
I got groupie bitches in my DM asking for a follow back
I know niggas trap morning to P.M, 24/7, you can call the trap
I am not a rapper, baby, I don’t like to call it rap
Official book bag boy, everybody ’round me strapped
Don’t know what happened to that last boy
Ain’t nobody ’round me clap
Disrespect this shit, he on your ass, boy, that’s my lil’ soulja there

You got the drop, she there, so focus there
Don’t let nobody know you there
Don’t take no pics, don’t post you there
Big Wildchild, you know it’s rare
Anytime she text me dollar signs, shit, I know it’s her
So what I do? I keep it player
Like, keep it cute, go get your nails done
My Uncle Don a Muslim, I’m covered by every prayer
Mama a Christian, when I get to tripping
She put holy water behind my ear
But I’m thuggin’ thy shall not fear, forgive ’em thy shall not kill
That’s what my OG told me
And every nigga played with him got hit
2014, it got real, still traumatized, that’s why I got pills
Heard my lil’ brother died, I just caught chills
Fresh bomb, jit say he finna off his
I tried to tell ’em them niggas playing lost still

But fuck it, nigga gon’ tell ’em roger that
What I do, they follow that
Don’t spit that out, gir,l swallow that
Mr. Get The Head, don’t call her back
I got groupie bitches in my DM asking for a follow back
I know niggas trap morning to P.M, 24/7, you can call the trap
I am not a rapper, baby, I don’t like to call it rap
Official book bag boy, everybody ’round me strapped
Don’t know what happened to that last boy
Ain’t nobody ’round me clap
Disrespect this shit, he on your ass, boy, that’s my lil’ soulja there