R.O. Double
Holdin My Balls Since 83
Props to Rocky for still releasing the track despite his efforts.
I don't think a rapper has been murdered on their own song that bad since then.
I mean it's nikkas who got killed, but not that bad.
I always knew Q was dope, but this shyt showed me he was vicious.
[A$AP Rocky] I'm camou' down to my boxers, gold teeth, a Bathing Ape
It's animals in my projects, like monkeys, orangutans
Banana clip on that chopper, I hold heat, bangers bang
Let Chiquita speak - bet it keep the peace, that Lil B, brrrangadang
I don't care if you blue or you red flaggin, hair swingin, my pants saggin
Hoes all on my bandwagon, your bytch gaggin, she jetlaggin
All my cuz nikkaz, what's crackin? All my blood nikkas, what's poppin?
I ain't set trippin, I just happen to know who click clackin, you mismatchin
fukk swagger, you been jackin, fukk fly, I am fashion
Tryin to cop that Benz wagon, my bytch drive it and my friends crash it
nikkaz threat with the chit-chattin, see a nikka don't shyt happen
I'm finna blow on that Bin Laden, so talk money, pig latin (Suck my fukkin dikk, bytch)
[Chorus: repeat 2X] Brand new clip, brand new nine Brand new bytch, brand new ride Brand new weed, brand new high Brand new me meet the brand new guys
[ScHoolboy Q] Three-fo'-five be the big toy, now which nikka want it with the fat boy?
Uhh - I'm clipped up like I'm paranoid, high as hell nikka, Fitzroy
Pull it off through the city like skirt
Seen that ho nikka like errr, hopped up on a nikka like murk
Put that p*ssy nikka in a purse
You wouldn't be the first, cover him with dirt
Put him in the ground, he was down to earth Knocked up nikka, I been down since birth Backpack full of random work with two bad hoes I'll teach you how to jerk
Teach you how to jerk, swaggin in my J's
Pop me a pill and throw that p*ssy a rave (p*ssy a rave)
My prerogative ways
Nappy chin hairs with the brand new fade
Brand new nikka with a brand new venue
Sold that bytch out shoulda made that hoe bigger Killing careers make these cupcakes remember My objective is to serve your agenda
Biggie and Nas put they ass in a blender
Sprinkle some 50 and came out this nikka Equipped with a gat and the dikk in your mouth Balls in my hands and your bytch in my house Twistin up weed, I'm diggin her out
Just fillin her out
Do all that shyt you be talkin about
While you gone? shyt, Netflix on your couch
What this popcorn about?
Microwave oven while you out there cuffin
You over there lovin
That bytch be my stuffing, like
Like we really be fukkin
[Chorus]
[ScHoolboy Q] + (ASAP Rocky) Brand new shirt to the brand new drawers
Brand new socks to the brand new Glock (uh-huh) This muh'fukker hold fifteen
Slap that hoe in, tell the clip get lost (nikka fukk you)
bytch I'm a boss
Pulled up clean, don't you hear the exhaust (uhh) Got my tie on, grippin on my i-ron, who I'm 'bout to fire on?
(Rap game fukked up, boy, fukk you think I rap for?)
(Crack game fukked up, boy, fukk you think I trap for?)
(Riding round with that mask on)
(Like a Mac attack when that strap on)
(Like a Shaq attack on that backboard, clap on, clap off)
Blue pit in my back yard (red nose my bad broad) Titan full of that hydro (pretty nikka, no catwalk) Big burner in your big mouth (p*ssy nikkaz suck led off)
I pull it up then skirt off Vodka shots, he Smirnoff (40 ounce of that Cristal) (Rose, that Rick Ross) Got it jumping like Kriss Kross (Mishmatching, no Jigsaw)
No horseplay when we quick draw (p*ssy nikka get a tit job)
Hands up, stick your mans up Your time's up, the new brand's up Q!
I don't think a rapper has been murdered on their own song that bad since then.
I mean it's nikkas who got killed, but not that bad.
I always knew Q was dope, but this shyt showed me he was vicious.
[A$AP Rocky] I'm camou' down to my boxers, gold teeth, a Bathing Ape
It's animals in my projects, like monkeys, orangutans
Banana clip on that chopper, I hold heat, bangers bang
Let Chiquita speak - bet it keep the peace, that Lil B, brrrangadang
I don't care if you blue or you red flaggin, hair swingin, my pants saggin
Hoes all on my bandwagon, your bytch gaggin, she jetlaggin
All my cuz nikkaz, what's crackin? All my blood nikkas, what's poppin?
I ain't set trippin, I just happen to know who click clackin, you mismatchin
fukk swagger, you been jackin, fukk fly, I am fashion
Tryin to cop that Benz wagon, my bytch drive it and my friends crash it
nikkaz threat with the chit-chattin, see a nikka don't shyt happen
I'm finna blow on that Bin Laden, so talk money, pig latin (Suck my fukkin dikk, bytch)
[Chorus: repeat 2X] Brand new clip, brand new nine Brand new bytch, brand new ride Brand new weed, brand new high Brand new me meet the brand new guys
[ScHoolboy Q] Three-fo'-five be the big toy, now which nikka want it with the fat boy?
Uhh - I'm clipped up like I'm paranoid, high as hell nikka, Fitzroy
Pull it off through the city like skirt
Seen that ho nikka like errr, hopped up on a nikka like murk
Put that p*ssy nikka in a purse
You wouldn't be the first, cover him with dirt
Put him in the ground, he was down to earth Knocked up nikka, I been down since birth Backpack full of random work with two bad hoes I'll teach you how to jerk
Teach you how to jerk, swaggin in my J's
Pop me a pill and throw that p*ssy a rave (p*ssy a rave)
My prerogative ways
Nappy chin hairs with the brand new fade
Brand new nikka with a brand new venue
Sold that bytch out shoulda made that hoe bigger Killing careers make these cupcakes remember My objective is to serve your agenda
Biggie and Nas put they ass in a blender
Sprinkle some 50 and came out this nikka Equipped with a gat and the dikk in your mouth Balls in my hands and your bytch in my house Twistin up weed, I'm diggin her out
Just fillin her out
Do all that shyt you be talkin about
While you gone? shyt, Netflix on your couch
What this popcorn about?
Microwave oven while you out there cuffin
You over there lovin
That bytch be my stuffing, like
Like we really be fukkin
[Chorus]
[ScHoolboy Q] + (ASAP Rocky) Brand new shirt to the brand new drawers
Brand new socks to the brand new Glock (uh-huh) This muh'fukker hold fifteen
Slap that hoe in, tell the clip get lost (nikka fukk you)
bytch I'm a boss
Pulled up clean, don't you hear the exhaust (uhh) Got my tie on, grippin on my i-ron, who I'm 'bout to fire on?
(Rap game fukked up, boy, fukk you think I rap for?)
(Crack game fukked up, boy, fukk you think I trap for?)
(Riding round with that mask on)
(Like a Mac attack when that strap on)
(Like a Shaq attack on that backboard, clap on, clap off)
Blue pit in my back yard (red nose my bad broad) Titan full of that hydro (pretty nikka, no catwalk) Big burner in your big mouth (p*ssy nikkaz suck led off)
I pull it up then skirt off Vodka shots, he Smirnoff (40 ounce of that Cristal) (Rose, that Rick Ross) Got it jumping like Kriss Kross (Mishmatching, no Jigsaw)
No horseplay when we quick draw (p*ssy nikka get a tit job)
Hands up, stick your mans up Your time's up, the new brand's up Q!
