Gold Rolex Bobby Sessions (Ft. Benny the Butcher & Freddie Gibbs)

[Intro: Bobby Sessions]
Bobby Sessions, young, hol' up
Yeah
Ayy

[Verse 1: Bobby Sessions]
Real recognize real, nigga, you unidentified
Diamonds on my neck is proof that my dream crystallized
Talkin' shit, that's ill-advised, probably why my hater's sick
Saw the cake inside my bank increase because I made a wish
Saw the streets, not in the streets, all the streets embraced the kid
Cracker give me funny look 'cause I'm stayin' at the Ritz
Walkin' like a pimp with a cane and a limp
Mesmerize your bitch, she watch my dick swing to the left
Popped my trunk and then I dipped, uh, Donald Trump a bitch
Texas nigga, Pleasant Grove, you better know that I'm legit
Took the shackles off my soul, I never sold it for a cent
Now the wrist is full of gold, I hit the goal and now I'm rich, uh
Made some new ones
Kept this shit one hunnid, now it's paid up with the blue ones
I expose the system, take a look at how they do us
They wanna hate me, tell the world that I'm a nuisance
Pussy nigga, do some, legend

[Chorus: Z-Ro]
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes