You’re Not Rolling

[Intro]
You're not rollin'
Hey GK tell them they're not rollin'
They're not rollin'
Tell them they're not rollin'
This guy
(I love Chris Rich)

[Chorus]
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla
Come on my boy we do it for fun (hey come here)
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (no way)
Got about four bells left in this gun (I do)
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leavе you rubbed (Baow, baow)
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
Wе pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla (Hey, come here)
Come on my boy we do it for fun
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (we can't)
Got about four bells left in this gun
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed (Baow, baow)

[Verse 1]
Hey
Ask *** what I do
Ask *** what I do (What I do)
Ask *** what I do (What I do)
Cah I come to their strip and make em leave there crew
Nigga get shanked with their boo (their boo)
Not me, nigga, you (You)
You don't wanna buck repo gang
That's home invasions take mans food (oi take that)
I'm takin' the lot
Where's the scales I'm baggin' up prof' (Prof')
Don't talk on what happened at tops
That's dead
The gang needs to cop a new top (New top, new top)
It's burgundy not red
You heard what I said
Piru shit to the end (To the end)
It's burgundy not red
You heard what I said
I'm on a one-five flick to the end (One-five, one-five), that's gang

[Chorus]
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla
Come on my boy we do it for fun (hey come here)
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (no way)
Got about four bells left in this gun (I do)
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed (Baow, baow)
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla (Hey, come here)
Come on my boy we do it for fun
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (we can't)
Got about four bells left in this gun
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed (Baow, baow)

[Verse 2]
You're not rollin, darlin'
'Cah can't really roll with skets (Nah, I can't)
Two fingers up like fuck da met (Fuck them)
This dumb bitch on the phone
Tryna tease me like I ain't banned from L-D-N (Silly bitch)
We got grub, money, skengs
Empty that crop till there's nothin' left (Left)
If there's baby's what do we look like
Man ain't no - I ain't touchin' them (No way)
More time wid the Gs and we uptown
Couple bad bs uno how it gets (True)
Jaysav in the bathroom gettin' neck
Mans high off balloons while gettin' head (Haha)
You're not rollin', you heard what I said
Can't be onto man if you don't pose a threat (You can't)
Suce ta maman suck your mum in French
We can't leave till there's nothin' left (You dickhead)
Was a young yute when slates got stretched
Pedal bikes trips that was kway back then (Back then)
More time it's a rents or a ding dong
What man use to lurk on gems (Where they at?)
Two fingers up to all the alibis who give man stress (Fuck you)
But gang got love for all the bad bs who give neck (We do, we do)
You jezz
You're not rollin', get out the function
I might feel nice and let in your friends
Dumb bitch keep actin' get out the Benz
Best tighten your weave cah you're losin' your head (Silly bitch)
You're losin' your head
Best tighten your weave you're losin;' your head
Silly bitch (ha ha)

[Chorus]
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla
Come on my boy we do it for fun (hey come here)
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (no way)
Got about four bells left in this gun (I do)
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed (Baow, baow)
Nah, you're not rollin', hun (You're not)
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla (Hey, come here)
Come on my boy we do it for fun
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love (we can't)
Got about four bells left in this gun
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed (Baow, baow)

[Outro]
Nah, you're not rollin', hun
We pull up in twenty plate whips like Yalla
Come on my boy we do it for fun (I love Chris Rich)
In jugg we trust if we don't make bread
Then we can't make love
Got about four bells left in this gun
Gotta give it to TY the golden glove
He love play with toys that might leave you rubbed