Price of Livin’

[Verse 1]
It’s a new era, new time, new beginning
See me come out of hidden, raising the price of living
And I make decisions dealing with rappers’ fate
Niggas dial 911 when my throat vibrates
Province to state, I make moves too smooth
In avenues I bring crews the blues
Enough of introduct, I know some kid that’s out to buck
Went out to make a buck and got fucked
Word is born I’m in my own categor'
Steady building treasure
Rhyme style at the top of the pile to crush yours
Man I move too smooth (too smooth)
Yes y’all new school star, king of the hill, king of the broads
Got rhymes street sick make your girl do tricks
Shaking her butt like what asking me about my occupation
I said I’m in a rap group
She said you’re one of those kids who talks shit over loops?
Man I move too smooth
I stepped hard to the right and grabbed the mic
'Bout to set this bitch right
Live at the barbecue man it was old school night
Big Daps was there talking Freedom 25
Roama blessed the mic, niggas’ll catch mad vibes
When I start to take flight, what it’s like?
It’s like me being a champion writer
And your whole crew’s a set of biters man
I won’t diss you cause yo you dissed yourself
Spitting the whole three minutes sounding like somebody else
Kids play R Kelly cause you remind em of something
But when I start to bless the mic you know the man dem caan say nuttin
Cause I’m too smooth, better yet too rough
I’ll get you high off of this here stuff, high

[Chorus x2]
Something’s got to give so I’m about to give in
Someone’s got to win so I’ma win it
Make you feel like robbing a bank
You’re best to go and give thanks
The Roama has risen, raising the price of living

[Verse 2]
Something’s gotta give real soon
I know a place that’s like a ticking time bomb
You hear tick too late, boom
And I got an entourage laying in a lagoon
Full of Jamaican money makers and Guyanese tycoons
Whose main object is to claim and respect
Tyrant running tanks through imperial banks
And we’re eating enchiladas when you’re begging tofu
Why? 'Cause I’m smooth, no need to be rude
Hot 'cause I don’t like to dream about getting when there’s money involved
Cashing cheques is like Guinness and rough sex
See it feels too good to let go, word yo
It’s like the girl I had mentioned, see I showed her my intentions
Now she can’t look dead in my face
She’s doing ninety with brakes
Acting like I didn’t deal with the case
But I did, wet the “Mids” on a summer night’s mission
Mr. Roam From The Plant, thank God for the friction

[Chorus x2]
Something’s got to give so I’m about to give in
Someone’s got to win so I’ma win it
Make you feel like robbing a bank
You’re best to go and give thanks
The Roama has risen, raising the price of living