Rolling Loud Lyrics

We outside for real so let the opps know we ain't ducking nothing

All she do is talk bitch use yo mouth on me or shut it up

Tried to let dude come lock in with us but he ain't tough enough

He gone kill his self when we find out that I been fucking her

That new ap gone fuck em up bust it down

Throw that gun away if that lil shit don't hold a hundred rounds

Tried to make me nut fast off of head I told her calm it down

Boxes in my mail even my plug know we don't fuck around

They call me Mr. Oppsmacka

Lotta closed caskets

I'm a getting money fucking hoes toting poles bastard

I might sell you some shake ya hand and wipe your nose after

They ain't in the field or shooting back them disses don't matter

Mr. Oppsmacka

Lotta closed caskets

I'm a getting money fucking hoes toting poles bastard

I might sell you some shake ya hand and wipe your nose after

They ain't in the field or shooting back them disses don't matter

Why these niggas scared to move

And tell the truth cause we put shit to bed if they ain't dead I know the vegetables

I won't bend or fold and trust these hoes is some I'll never do

Cross me he had hella moves hear snakes and I can't let them through

We gone slide for 3 weeks I don't need sleep

He said gas prices too high well we got cheap p's

Spin again like this my favorite song shots on repeat

Put her legs behind her head and dive in like knee deep

That ain't us

We ain't got nothing to do with that unless he died or he hiding

Knew I was gone be the man before I was 9 I wasn't surprised

Pray these shells come out my gun go in yo head and break inside

I Woke up put on my shoes and sold 3 Bricks like 80 times

Aye and you had plenty times to pass me

Last week I trapped while I was waiting on P to grab me

Tell that boy stop rapping cut it out cause that shit ass cheeks

I beat up the streets and made 10 bands and that's a bad week

They call me Mr. Oppsmacka

Lotta closed caskets

I'm a getting money fucking hoes toting poles bastard

I might sell you some shake ya hand and wipe your nose after

They ain't in the field or shooting back them disses don't matter

Mr. Oppsmacka

Lotta closed caskets

I'm a getting money fucking hoes toting poles bastard

I might sell you some shake ya hand and wipe your nose after

They ain't in the field or shooting back them disses don't matter