Blow 4 Blow Rome Streetz (Ft. Benny the Butcher & Stove God Cooks)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Blow 4 Blow" by Rome Streetz (Ft. Benny the Butcher & Stove God Cooks). 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: Ola Ray & Michael Jackson]
Look out!
Can we get out of here?
No, I'm enjoying this
Conductor, we have a problem
Conductor, we have a problem
Conductor, conductor, we have a prob—
[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Gemstar razor rippin' you
You're minuscule, gettin' paid work I weighed on the Supreme digital (Uh-huh)
I eat you niggas food (Fuck outta here)
I played the lower all night, gettin' right, sellin' a broken down '62 (I did)
Now it's autographs, lump sums from rap residuals
I know seein' me style is makin' you niggas miserable (Haha)
Keep watchin' my moves, you gon' be suicidal
I'm the God, I always knew to never worship idols
You thе champ I blow the wig off, who hold the title?
And spill thе of blood my rival all over his bible
Zip ties on my Off-White Nike shoe
Properly flip pies, clique with guys that'll knife you (Uh-huh)
Who don't speak much, read body language and move smart
Keep a chrome trey-pound to match the Chrome Hearts
Pay me on time, all hundreds, like I'm a loan shark
Mommy said, "You should be rich already, think you so smart"
Before monetary, I was wealthy in the mind already
Playin' first to execute millions, I need many
You niggas hopeless and your pockets got pennies with holes
Your attempt to copy is sloppy, we broke the mold (Woah)
I had coke, I made the fiends go blow for blow
Whoever win overdose, you niggas know we're close
Look out!
Can we get out of here?
No, I'm enjoying this
Conductor, we have a problem
Conductor, we have a problem
Conductor, conductor, we have a prob—
[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Gemstar razor rippin' you
You're minuscule, gettin' paid work I weighed on the Supreme digital (Uh-huh)
I eat you niggas food (Fuck outta here)
I played the lower all night, gettin' right, sellin' a broken down '62 (I did)
Now it's autographs, lump sums from rap residuals
I know seein' me style is makin' you niggas miserable (Haha)
Keep watchin' my moves, you gon' be suicidal
I'm the God, I always knew to never worship idols
You thе champ I blow the wig off, who hold the title?
And spill thе of blood my rival all over his bible
Zip ties on my Off-White Nike shoe
Properly flip pies, clique with guys that'll knife you (Uh-huh)
Who don't speak much, read body language and move smart
Keep a chrome trey-pound to match the Chrome Hearts
Pay me on time, all hundreds, like I'm a loan shark
Mommy said, "You should be rich already, think you so smart"
Before monetary, I was wealthy in the mind already
Playin' first to execute millions, I need many
You niggas hopeless and your pockets got pennies with holes
Your attempt to copy is sloppy, we broke the mold (Woah)
I had coke, I made the fiends go blow for blow
Whoever win overdose, you niggas know we're close
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