album cover
artist
Roney
Woo
368
Hip-Hop
Woo adlı parça albümünün bir parçası olarak 2x Music Group tarafından 17 Nisan 2020 tarihinde yayınlandıSeen It All
album cover
AlbümSeen It All
Çıkış Tarihi17 Nisan 2020
Firma2x Music Group
Melodiklik
Akustiklik
Valence
Dans Edilebilirlik
Enerji
BPM84

GENEL BAKIŞ

ŞARKI SÖZLERI

Müzik Videosu

Müzik Videosu

Krediler

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Roney
Roney
Performer
Tyrone Noel Smith
Tyrone Noel Smith
Rap
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Tyrone Noel Smith
Tyrone Noel Smith
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Steve Kroeger
Steve Kroeger
Producer

Şarkı sözleri

These **** hiding
They wasn't riding
My **** sliding
You ducking sirens
Until we find it
Like it wasn't bad enough that you were hiding
You was lying to **** that you were sliding
You wasn't ducking the laws and the sirens
But he talking a lot until we find him
Roney got the touch, I got the Midas
Hit a **** up I get him minused
Sicker than corona virus
We just turned that boy into a pilot, fly him
She wanna give me neck inside the cockpit
But the trap got a bird like an ostrich
Same **** kept him safe, had 'em boxed in
They gon' buy a suit for his coffin, often
Gooners running up, yeah we lost it, awesome
Dressed in all black, got some goth shit, gothic
Youngin did a job, yeah he sauced him, off this
We do boss shit, we don't talk, we don't talk dem
Gaza still dead, send a spell, make him hot then
Risen from the dead, give him hell, no caution
**** is my sons, got their lives in my pocket
Killing all these rappers in my city gets exhausting, woo!
And we ain't parking lot pimping
Brodie had a vision, so we put him mission
Made him whip a pot, got a mission in this kitchen
He shoot with precision, we don't need to give permission
Damn!
That lil' boy he so persistent
Send him on a mission, he gon' leave a **** missing
We ain't parking lot pimping
Brodie had a vision, so we put him mission
Used to think sometimes, like how I got here
From beach chairs in the trap wit' a mean glare
Couple grams in the pocket of my Rocawear
Now I'm riding out in Moncler
I can do no wrong when I rap songs
Blow a bomb like I'm Saddam
**** funny like a sitcom
In my city, **** peeons
Shoot 'em put the beam on
Flee the scene we gone
Treat him like a Futon
Fold him if he move wrong
My brown bitch look like Mulan
And she love me when my jewels on
Gooners running up, yeah we lost it, awesome
Dressed in all black, got some goth shit, gothic
Youngin did a job, yeah he sauced him, off this
We do boss shit, we don't talk, we don't talk dem
Gaza still dead, send a spell, make him hot then
Risen from the dead give him hell, no caution
**** is my sons, got their lives in my pocket
Killing all these rappers in my city gets exhausting, woo!
Written by: Tyrone Noel Smith

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