Rollin’ Dolo

Lyrics

[Intro] That's right, Boston Yeah, Boston niggas be rollin' dolo from state to state It's nothing, we do this [Chorus] Still no body guards, I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees Rollin' dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate [Verse 1: Guru] Yo, jealousy can kill, so I test my skill Any pomp, I can romp and stomp at will Now as I gets my thrill, it's like my daily drill You spill raps and invade, 'cause I've been made to ill You can't talk the talk, you can't walk the walk Been dwelling with the muggers and the murderers talk You're shocked by the way I regulate ya, obliterate ya Erase your obsolete weak cheap data [Verse 2: Edo.G] It's this Hip-Hop art I stay true to, crack brew to I fuck your girl a lot better than you do The type of lyrics I spit will never fail you Battle you online, type a letter, forward it, then email you Take you off the track and derail you Get the hell out my face, don't want to be near you Don't want your snippets, hate your album and your headshots It's Edo.G in the black fitted Red Sox Thug in the streets, but you soft at home You got skills off the dome? I'ma off your dome This is a battlefield, no time for screaming and yelling You get smacked in the face, use your ice for the swelling Besides the records I'm selling My mama raised no felon On the hunt like Helen For wack rappers who's jellin' This is drama, not a kiddie show You want to get fucked up Like the low-budget video I know a lot of time's passed The Edo.G is still here and ya'll still half-ass [Chorus] (Ya'll still half ass... ya'll half-ass rappers) Still no body guards, I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees Rollin' dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate [Verse 3: Big Shug] It's the return of the mouth-musher, skull-crusher Pack myself with two nines and cold crush ya That nigga all day beating down suckers Sporting the game, making it get more rougher The face-puncher, the hot-cruncher The have-it-with-gods for the law out-to-luncher The seven-thirty, know I'm more than a sick man The streets raised this wild ass nigga from "Murderpan" The real rapper, the pimp-slapper The put-on-the-socks-with-your-suit and stay dapper Whoa, the chump-choker, the Backwood tree smoker Stash the gats in the sofa, it's all over One life to live and that's that I keep my lyrics heavily packed and cocked back I'll smash you right in your fucking face, black I'm the realest nigga, what you know about that? I'ma let my skills shine like brand new chrome And tell them son niggas you run with that daddy's home I roll dolo from state to state, it feels great And in 2000, get on the stage and demonstrate [Chorus] Still no body guards, I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees Rollin' dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate [Verse 4: Guru] No holds barred, I'm going all out I don't think you're for real, I think you're all mouth So bust one for my dogs locked down And for my real rap lovers, know I got it locked down Until you're blocked down, punks get beat down You can't rock a party, take a seat, you clown I frown upon scavengers and wannabe's Commit atrocities upon MC's who think they heart is mean [Chorus] Still no body guards, I stay sucker free Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees Rollin' dolo from state to state Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate [Verse 5: Krumbsnatcha] Smokey gray Lexus, diamond necklace We livin' reckless and die for these inspectors The four pounders, cock the name on you out-of-towners And what, Henny filled cups, peep the diamond cut Ice, paradise, living in the thug life Married to the game, fuck a lame diggin' out your wife Loving all these block wars, do shit that's uncalled for Make money in your spot, get it locked, shoot down four For all your ghetto revenues Spraying through any avenue Running, I'll be grabbing you Hog-tied and smacking you With heaters on purpose Hold you hostage like you was Turkish And your pussy ass elevated, gut it down your worthless These thoughts is vivid and we talk if you live it Rappers brag about a town, but don't get respect in it Ain't a damn shame, what's thats man's name That got a flame to his nut Clearing out his spot with a rusted hook Trust me, it's not just entertainment Ask the judges that face me on the arraignment Plus I came with, hundreds of niggas that think the same The plastic hotter than acid to melt the brain You know the rest, man