Lyrics:
To The Lil Roy’s Y’all Know We Strained, We Stuck Together Like The Mud Y'all All Gang, I Came In Clutch Wit Thangs, My Brothers Do The Same, They 2XX To Loyal
Ro call my phone
Why CJ have to die so young
I wish ascension on my dead and gone
Forever long live seven phone home Long live LP and his OG
Going down
pager
I'm a major, in other words I got flavor
I wreck mics rip shows and kick floors
Lil' Ro' got y'all throwin ya bows
I'm bout that if you hatin then
phone two way pager
I'm a major, in other words I got flavor
I wreck mics rip shows and kick floors
Lil' Ro' got y'all throwin ya bows
I'm bout that if
Came up in the hood lil dirty lil nigga
Dirty lil nigga, he a dirty lil nigga
Might break in your house, he a dirty lil nigga
Dirty lil nigga, old
Paul Jonson
DJ Funk
DJ Sneak
DJ Rush
Waxmaster
Hyperactive
Jammin' Gerald
Bryan Wilson
George Clinton
Lil' Louis
Ashley Beatto
Paul Jonson
DJ Funk
DJ Sneak
DJ Rush
Waxmaster
Hyperactive
Jammin Gerald
Bryan Wilson
George Clinton
Lil Louis
Ashley Beatto
Neil
Right stroke put lil' baby in a spiral
Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note
It's levels to it, you and I know
Bitch, be humble
(Hol' up,
you got is a nickle
(Hey)
Choppa so wet like I'm Blastoise
AR-15 none of my niggas got toys
You and your team vs. RO$Y & Boy Boyz
We smokin loud like
'Bout to explode rounds
Look
[Mannie Fresh]
Check it out, check it out
You lil boyz make it happen, pack up y'all shit
You lil boyz need to go
Right stroke put lil' baby in a spiral
Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note
It's levels to it, you and I know
Bitch, be humble
(Hol' up,
died in a argument
They was hatin', that's why I'm way farther than 'em
'Member askin' my mom where my father been at
Ain't no talkin', that fire what
Hoes craz by a lil'OJ
That's ya bitch? no way
Nigga, get yo bae before get yo bae
Go and hit yo bae and that's why she leave
And they guys get weak she
I know you know me, aye
Run it up, run it up, run it up
RO$Y the squad and she wanna have fun with us, aye
Smokin this weed, it's not regular
This is
Damn, uh, four deep in the whip like lil' nigga do some
This nigga walkin' like he tryna move some
I put the Glock to his neck, tryna mute some
Some folk gon' say it's wrong
Why the Joneses make that song?
They ain't right like when rims ain't chrome
Or a midget with a Cadillac Broh'm
But
Fuckin' lil' homies
Everybody duckin', my fuckin' lil' homies
Lil' homies
Everybody duckin', my fuckin' lil' homies
Please pay attention
joy
I'll destroy who ya employ
I shoot 12 rounds, now Jr. Jones Roy
Y'all so backwards, I don't do Backwoods, I'ma swisher man
8 in the mornin' you
Haha (gang)
Bitches lyin' on my name, I ain't hit her yet (freak bitch)
I sit back, fuck some bitches, put V.Roy name on my fitted (gang)
And y
bitching like a whore
Love was tough for Roy he might as well been a lil orphan boy
Lets fast forward to high school Roy
Same .45 with a pack of noise
He
of murder
Lil Weezy cook it and I'ma serve her
Further, guess what I'ma go do with' this women when we're eatin' Gerber?
Mama said to kill 'em all, and I
incoratin'
Coffir grands cushed up big a and lil a my Cauison forty five and mac ro see you when
You touch down man I'm doin' all right I miss ya call
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