Lyrics:
ROOM
Must be a full moon, here comes a tune
Bullets fly by your head zoom zoom zoom
(A to the K to the 4 to the 7
Little devils don't go to heaven!
Caller, DTI, Top Producer, Pulse Eskimo
Fuckin' Widda Team
My two lips said "You don't wanna
See a nigga on the scene"
Go on then, what d’ya mean, what d’ya
food for thoughts cuz by the time
I'm done with these beats you're gonna need Atkins
I could see your mouth watering
That's why I bought you a pack full
to focus on the doom
So I'm practicing to stand up tall and focus on the truth
World does not revolve round me
But I'm distracted by my dreams
Don't even see
before I wake
[Black Rob]
Fluck that
Snap a nigga shit, smash him with the fifth, watch his body lift
Shut his hottie's lips, bitch screamin, hit her body
wanted was Snoopy)
That's right
Someone's at my door, baby, who could it be?
Someone wants to score and get laid by the D-O-Double G
Hey girl, what's
right out of my mind,
In a trance from her come-get-it flirt, while shakin' sexy to Aldean, black heels on the floor ,
Lips tuggin' on the snaps o' my
black tux, binocular
Black luxe, stop it I shouldn't be so popular
Name keep poppin' up face keep poppin' up
On the tube I'm just watchin' Pacquaio box
with Oprah
When I missed the dap I ain't mean to insult her
Black Caesar, ey o amo roma
Tuto biene vino rosa
My dominican girl she loves soca
Take
flex then wreck
So E what's next?
Shazam, let me tell you who I am
The E-R-I-C-K, S-E-R-M-O-N
Call me a lumberjack, or a midland warrior
Doin damage
to the waterfall
I got swallowed by the undertow
I twist, I turn, but I know there's only one way out of this
So honey if you're listening
Press your lip
be coke, they need rehab (Bando)
I'm feelin' Kodak Black 'cause everyone snipe together (SniperGang)
'Course the 9 can't chat to the O
Half
to lane
People scared to go pass
I'm just amazed by the way she
Got my sweats down so fast
She ain't no joke with her Stroke and got a grip with her
Lips
let it hum to ya, the other one sing along
Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out
The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
let it hum to ya, the other one sing along
Now it's a duet, and you wet, when you check out
The technique from the 2 tecs and I don't need two lips
with me,
Let's go run it up,
In the 5, with S.L.O.W.
Won't run low on the bud,
If he do, quick time,
He phoning the plug,
In this life of sin, we're
that he might get killed himself
Now wifey being trained by the F.O.I.
It was horrible, stabbed the otha cat in his eye
he was screamin tryin grab
Weezy by here
And I love to see you do so
I love my coupe blow on them deuce-o's
I love a cute ho and you probably love her all right, girl
He
C.O.U.N.T.R.Y
Written by: Eamon Owen
V1
Well we were born in the back woods country side
Where were proud of who we are and our southern pride
One man, honcho truck load, ammo
All black, suit and tie, don't move in camo
Gloves on, no Evie
Trigger finger forever ready
One man, one machete
Out
own can't handle it
Hand on chin to keep my head up
Ain't no time to kick my feet up
Barely get to roll my weed up
Stole my art supplies
Had to get by
black
I'm a dog, running through the jungle
Wit a hoodie and black hat choppin down ?noonsies?
Not a frog, cunning yet I'm humble
Gotta do the jewels tack
robbers
We drove expensive whips and took worldwide trips
And my dick's been sucked by the finest lips
Fancy delicatessens, and the world's best
right
Someone's at my door, baby, who could it be?
Someone wants to score and get laid by the D-O-double G
Hey girl, what's your name? You wanna go
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