Royals Songtext
von Icewear Vezzo
Royals Songtext
(Royal House on the beat) Rover
Ridin′ in the Rover, next day a chauffeur
20, yeah (yeah)
Rrr, beep (ay)
Yeah, I'm in the Royal House ′cause we royal
Yeah (phew)
Ay, yeah
Ridin' in the Rover (yeah), next day a chauffeur (for real)
Lost a lotta love for niggas, got the cold shoulder (for real)
Countin' in the ′Rari (yeah), ridin′ 'round with Roger (what up?)
That bitch ain′t nothin', dawg, I hit her and I dodged her (yeah, how I do)
She look just like an angel, but a devil in that Prada
She would never talk to you, you only had a hunnid thousand
I touched down in that Maybach coupe, be on arrival
Came a long way from the struggle, it was all about survival (for real)
Ballin′ on my rivals (yeah), sold it off the high low (go)
Never lied once, with my right hand on the Bible (I swear)
Never slipped once even though I had my eyes low (yeah, low)
Didn't watch basketball, the dope man was my idol (ay, yeah)
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots (yeah)
I don't know why these niggas hate on me (what?)
′Cause, nigga, I′ll never go and hate on you (phew)
Vacheron wrist, ain't a nigga gave me shit (for real)
Big stones, half colors, love to play them alphabets (bitch)
Went from rags to riches, I was made to have it lit (Drank God)
Fuck the haters and the opps, know that K′ll rattle shit (brrt)
Yeah, Bal Harbour shoppin' (what?), Louis connoisseur (yeah)
Half a ticket in my bag, buy her Pucci if she screwin′ (ho)
We standin' in the way, we tell ′em boys they gotta move it
Let the bosses make decisions, send the workers to get juices (uh-huh)
Pour it by the fours (fours), Rollie caught a cold (brrt)
Draco sittin' in the closet, extra cartridge by the stove (fah)
Can put a nigga on and get him offed, he playin' roles
We got a big old turkey bag full of muffins for the lows, nigga (yeah)
Ridin′ ′round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don′t know why these niggas hate on me
'Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Rollie full of pasta (yeah), thuggin′ like we mobsters (mobsters)
′Bows full of rasta, get the roster straight from doctors
Turn it up yourself, can't be countin′ niggas' pockets (no)
Left the knocks a hunnid thousand, put the ′Rari truck on 'Santis (yeah)
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I′ll never go and hate on you
Ridin' ′round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Ridin′ in the Rover, next day a chauffeur
20, yeah (yeah)
Rrr, beep (ay)
Yeah, I'm in the Royal House ′cause we royal
Yeah (phew)
Ay, yeah
Ridin' in the Rover (yeah), next day a chauffeur (for real)
Lost a lotta love for niggas, got the cold shoulder (for real)
Countin' in the ′Rari (yeah), ridin′ 'round with Roger (what up?)
That bitch ain′t nothin', dawg, I hit her and I dodged her (yeah, how I do)
She look just like an angel, but a devil in that Prada
She would never talk to you, you only had a hunnid thousand
I touched down in that Maybach coupe, be on arrival
Came a long way from the struggle, it was all about survival (for real)
Ballin′ on my rivals (yeah), sold it off the high low (go)
Never lied once, with my right hand on the Bible (I swear)
Never slipped once even though I had my eyes low (yeah, low)
Didn't watch basketball, the dope man was my idol (ay, yeah)
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots (yeah)
I don't know why these niggas hate on me (what?)
′Cause, nigga, I′ll never go and hate on you (phew)
Vacheron wrist, ain't a nigga gave me shit (for real)
Big stones, half colors, love to play them alphabets (bitch)
Went from rags to riches, I was made to have it lit (Drank God)
Fuck the haters and the opps, know that K′ll rattle shit (brrt)
Yeah, Bal Harbour shoppin' (what?), Louis connoisseur (yeah)
Half a ticket in my bag, buy her Pucci if she screwin′ (ho)
We standin' in the way, we tell ′em boys they gotta move it
Let the bosses make decisions, send the workers to get juices (uh-huh)
Pour it by the fours (fours), Rollie caught a cold (brrt)
Draco sittin' in the closet, extra cartridge by the stove (fah)
Can put a nigga on and get him offed, he playin' roles
We got a big old turkey bag full of muffins for the lows, nigga (yeah)
Ridin′ ′round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don′t know why these niggas hate on me
'Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Rollie full of pasta (yeah), thuggin′ like we mobsters (mobsters)
′Bows full of rasta, get the roster straight from doctors
Turn it up yourself, can't be countin′ niggas' pockets (no)
Left the knocks a hunnid thousand, put the ′Rari truck on 'Santis (yeah)
Ridin′ 'round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I′ll never go and hate on you
Ridin' ′round, curtains up, Maybach coupe
Street nigga out the mud, never changed my roots
I don't know why these niggas hate on me
′Cause, nigga, I'll never go and hate on you
Writer(s): Icewear Vezzo, Gary Alan Thomas Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
