You’re Not Rolling

Lyrics

[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