"Free C Roy" lyrics
(Handz Beatz On The Slap)
Go with a whistle
It ain't gonna make no noise
Shotgun stuff two boys
Hammer and chisel, the pack's destroyed
And other times pack is joy
And Ten got a stutter, boy
Huh, yard dance when I utter "Woi!"
Can't wait till they free C Roy
Hammer on me just near my groin
I was at Steve's and he needed foil
Coke at the bottom, you see the oil
I was on a jet to IVZ
Same time tryna get my man stretched
You ain't gonna ride or step
I think that he's fine with lead
A hundred racks in jewels
And you think I ain't buying tools?
You bumped your head!
Hundred shells on the m-way down
And it came from Manchest'
Lion step with a thingy
Had a gauge right on Mizzy
That a G, R and a M
And I felt like Post, Diddy
Two plugs phone, say there's brand new flake
Two different wraps of white
And I'm tryna compare them
RDH1's thirty-seven and thirty-eight
Get me in the USA, I'm tryna link Drake in Drake's
It was me and Rollz tryna take that road
Fast forward, it's me a Rollz in Tape
Magnum bottle of '42
Watch all the birds appear
B22s, no Loubs
Bring my trainer to set, wear shoes
I ain't got a point to prove
But they make me feel like I do
Might put the waps and cash on the 'Gram and post a pic, mood
Know them lying, the man there's tired
They skengs are what, look, it's all been fired
Preeing the watches, like then timing
Louis head to tie, no stylist
No, they ain't like this
Weren't overnight, I been out here grinding
Didn't have Sky or Disney Channel
I still met Miley Cyrus
I got dirty, but I was the cleanest
I let them owe me, told them to keep it
I wasn't signed when I got all this VS
They're playing with F signs, think we can't see it
I flew a USA baddie to Europe
Heard me talk it, she wanna feel it
Stay in the villa and give it a beating
Then go to the city, I'm feeling like Grealish
You never did it, you never done it
You was online, but you never run it
Told you I really had lake in the cupboard
Filter cry with these hundred onions
If I can go, I sure will fund them
Here when it's summer, we come with the funner
Yeah, I'm a rapper, really a hustler
And I'm slapper, what's that on my jumper?
Go with a whistle
It ain't gonna make no noise
Shotgun stuff two boys
Hammer and chisel, the pack's destroyed
And other times pack is joy
And Ten got a stutter, boy
Huh, yard dance when I utter "Woi!"
Can't wait till they free C Roy
Hammer on me just near my groin
I was at Steve's and he needed foil
Coke at the bottom, you see the oil
I was on a jet to IVZ
Same time tryna get my man stretched
You ain't gonna ride or step
I think that he's fine with lead
A hundred racks in jewels
And you think I ain't buying tools?
You bumped your head!
Hundred shells on the m-way down
And it came from Manchest'
Lion step with a thingy
Had a gauge right on Mizzy
That a G, R and a M
And I felt like Post, Diddy
Two plugs phone, say there's brand new flake
Two different wraps of white
And I'm tryna compare them
RDH1's thirty-seven and thirty-eight
Get me in the USA, I'm tryna link Drake in Drake's
It was me and Rollz tryna take that road
Fast forward, it's me a Rollz in Tape
Magnum bottle of '42
Watch all the birds appear
B22s, no Loubs
Bring my trainer to set, wear shoes
I ain't got a point to prove
But they make me feel like I do
Might put the waps and cash on the 'Gram and post a pic, mood
Know them lying, the man there's tired
They skengs are what, look, it's all been fired
Preeing the watches, like then timing
Louis head to tie, no stylist
No, they ain't like this
Weren't overnight, I been out here grinding
Didn't have Sky or Disney Channel
I still met Miley Cyrus
I got dirty, but I was the cleanest
I let them owe me, told them to keep it
I wasn't signed when I got all this VS
They're playing with F signs, think we can't see it
I flew a USA baddie to Europe
Heard me talk it, she wanna feel it
Stay in the villa and give it a beating
Then go to the city, I'm feeling like Grealish
You never did it, you never done it
You was online, but you never run it
Told you I really had lake in the cupboard
Filter cry with these hundred onions
If I can go, I sure will fund them
Here when it's summer, we come with the funner
Yeah, I'm a rapper, really a hustler
And I'm slapper, what's that on my jumper?
Writer(s): Hans Sidhu, Devonte Perkins Marton
