Young Roddy - Round Table lyrics

[Produced by Chase N. Cashe] [Verse 1: Le$] Pearl white Cadillac, that's for my enemies Living out your raps, I'm the one that you pretend to be Mac-16s, ain't no bars that can limit me It's about to go down, you feel that energy Smoked more d** than y'all n***as done sold f** up out my way dog, y'all n***as too old Y'all was at the club going broke in them bottles I was at the crib getting head from a model Writing out my plans, gotta see it to do it I know you far from a gangsta, you trying too hard to prove it The funny thing about character is it's easy to lose it Just like it's easy to point it but ain't easy to shoot it Feel like we starting a movement, a rebellion I hear 'em yelling, they buying the sh** you selling Where we going, no telling I'm cooking, I know they smell it My disputed, the people's chant [?] coming down that rant Rock solid, stone cold Stunting down [?] Since my time, now I'm f**ing up your I come through slow, ride by with the seat back n***a been the sh**, give a f** about your feedback [Hook: Young Roddy] Clean n***a though I got it out the dirt I'm burning that money like a germ First things first, I'm making money like the first of the month The boy big dog to them pups I got it out the mud I'm sorry love but ain't no love without no glove Don't k** my buzz when a n***a on that bud It's still f** a b**h, f** the fuzz You could find me in the cut with that lean in my cup [Verse 2: Curren$y] Watching the news, make sure the heist went smooth Before we make another move, don't call me Unless you calling me the motherf**ing war chief Lord of the fliest, highest, chef that Food for thought, too much for you to digest Walk the walk, pimp limp, high step Ball like Walt Frazier, every shot all net Ball like wall street with the Joe stocks net Golds with the [?] my biceps Count my stash, roll back to the pad Roll my gra**, call over some a** Joints burning slow but a n***a live fast Be the trillest night that that b**h ever had Let's not get into that Let's get in that bank vault, start filling bags Fresh from the dealership tags got them haters feeling bad [Hook: Young Roddy] Clean n***a though I got it out the dirt I'm burning that money like a germ First things first, I'm making money like the first of the month The boy big dog to them pups I got it out the mud I'm sorry love but ain't no love without no glove Don't k** my buzz when a n***a on that bud It's still f** a b**h, f** the fuzz You could find me in the cut with that lean in my cup [Verse 3: Corner Boy P] I'm tryna make a dollar out of fifteen, a mill off of ten G's Turn my Cutless to a Bentley [?] we ain't supposed to have things They call me Mr. Icy all summer You know I grind like no other n***a pinky ring fluttered All these chains on got my neck all smothered I been running around like I been had a check Got the bright one just to give the rolly a rest n***a hit my line like [?] They used the word plug loosely, no type of respect Stacks from the floor up, acting a soda b**hes doing lines off each other off the c**a Ten chains on got me looking like a gold rush Balling like a [?] got your b**h on a poster Little n***a like Olajuwan when I post up Chevy fram hogging both lanes when I pull up Leaning while I pull her, smoking like a motor You could ask my other b**hes, dig me like a shovel And I'm tired of telling you it's more than music n***a you're a fan like your b**h, that's amusing I don't care if she bad, you knows how I does her Scoop her in the Coupe send her back in the Uber