Weatherman Royce Da 5'9" (Ft. Kid Vishis & Sucka Free)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Weatherman" by Royce Da 5'9" (Ft. Kid Vishis & Sucka Free). Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro: Royce Da 5'9"]
Yeah
M.I.C. Records
Yeah
[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I show up looking like money, that diamond chain on
Bitches is dick swinging, getting their hang on
Expensive frames on, touch me, your ass is grass
Speaking of grass, this stripper's tryna get rained on
I'm rich, but I ain't no drug dealer, I hang with them
I can talk business and talk shit on the same phone
My kidney floating, I'm drinking like I'm supposed to
They call me Frank The Tank in the hood, I'm old school
I keep a different bitch in the car when I roll though
Nigga, I be bringing out more hoes than the shows do
You got a girl, nigga, I got girls, nigga
The difference between us is my penis is plural, nigga
I'm nicknaming my car, call it "Ass In The Martin"
You niggas living like rats in a shackled apartment
Take that back, that's wack, it's the fact that you bought it
I act retarded, my mind's on the back of a carton
I never thought that I'd see the day that rappers was blogging
They sound hungry but them niggas is actually starving
Perhaps it's the chardonnay I'm at the crib sipping
You niggas working, but dig this here what [?] different
You're working out in the gym, how 'bout we kill niggas
We exercise by gun running and wig lifting
Sig spitting, the pimps see us, we're big pimping
I don't be sniffing no cane but that shit is tempting
Yeah
M.I.C. Records
Yeah
[Verse 1: Royce Da 5'9"]
I show up looking like money, that diamond chain on
Bitches is dick swinging, getting their hang on
Expensive frames on, touch me, your ass is grass
Speaking of grass, this stripper's tryna get rained on
I'm rich, but I ain't no drug dealer, I hang with them
I can talk business and talk shit on the same phone
My kidney floating, I'm drinking like I'm supposed to
They call me Frank The Tank in the hood, I'm old school
I keep a different bitch in the car when I roll though
Nigga, I be bringing out more hoes than the shows do
You got a girl, nigga, I got girls, nigga
The difference between us is my penis is plural, nigga
I'm nicknaming my car, call it "Ass In The Martin"
You niggas living like rats in a shackled apartment
Take that back, that's wack, it's the fact that you bought it
I act retarded, my mind's on the back of a carton
I never thought that I'd see the day that rappers was blogging
They sound hungry but them niggas is actually starving
Perhaps it's the chardonnay I'm at the crib sipping
You niggas working, but dig this here what [?] different
You're working out in the gym, how 'bout we kill niggas
We exercise by gun running and wig lifting
Sig spitting, the pimps see us, we're big pimping
I don't be sniffing no cane but that shit is tempting
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