Blow

Album cover art for "Blow" by Young Roddy

Young Roddy - Rap

Blow

2 Plays

Duration: 4:03

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Lyrics

Jet Life x3 And if it don't make bread it ain't right One time for the set that I rep Your best bet if you come come correct I Show no love to the weak no respect They Tell me lifes, a gamble I holla bet But outta no where this nigga became a threat And I ain't even break a sweat but she soaking wet And just like my logo for the money I jet There's no day's off on my road to success Long as that money on my mind theirs no rest When we ain't have a deal we had to pay our self Roddy just a name I gave my self Cause either she get right or get left But before even I got unpacked she undressed Word, Real recognize real I guess So till I'm dead and gone its Jets at your neck I'm in a city with murder money and sex DWade flow, fuck it better yet Durant Skinny as I am I tote my city on my back I stay highed up that helps me relax I get behind it if she throw that ass back Shorty ridin till the wheels go flat I stay strapped and my track gone clap In the fast lane peddle to the mat Till the floor, shit way better then before This a jack move I kick down the door I'm on my grind I hope you own yours I'm never close like my neighborhood stores Never once reveled my jet code We stack dough till that shit over flow I fall back when these hoes pay me close Why smile when that shit ain't no joke Cause all we know is hustle until you croke Jet Life, Jets Go Jets Go Show nuff you right, we gone blow Its hard to breath around all this gun smoke Man this weed gets me to high to be getting it for the low

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Credits

Writers
  • Young Roddy