Role Model OG Maco
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Role Model" by OG Maco. 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.
[Hook]
I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just got another roll of new hundreds
And I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just copped another round of gold bottles
I can’t say I call myself a role model
I can’t say I call myself a role model
I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just copped another round of gold bottles
[Verse 1]
Role models used to be the brick man
Now the role models got to be the hitman
Topped the charts, making art like a young Da Vinci
My pockets filled with money rolls and his wallet empty
I’m talking the Benjis, but nothing formalities, only fatalities
Working my diamonds, we murk em and send a shooter in and out
And the Birken cost nothing when money is granted
Junior wearing turbans, that’s right beside of me
[?] behind, and I roll up my sleeves and that Rolex behind em
I might pull up dolo, pull up [?] down from that [?]
Finessing my lingo, I got it, I got it, like Migo
I need that A1, that mota, that preemo
[?] say I’m salty, I’m stacking my pringles
And breezy bitches asking me if I’m single
I’m working doubles, why I’m averaging triples
Fully loaded like my rifle a pistol
You bitches see me in the [?] ears
Yeah yeah, bitch!
I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just got another roll of new hundreds
And I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just copped another round of gold bottles
I can’t say I call myself a role model
I can’t say I call myself a role model
I can’t say I call myself a role model
But I just copped another round of gold bottles
[Verse 1]
Role models used to be the brick man
Now the role models got to be the hitman
Topped the charts, making art like a young Da Vinci
My pockets filled with money rolls and his wallet empty
I’m talking the Benjis, but nothing formalities, only fatalities
Working my diamonds, we murk em and send a shooter in and out
And the Birken cost nothing when money is granted
Junior wearing turbans, that’s right beside of me
[?] behind, and I roll up my sleeves and that Rolex behind em
I might pull up dolo, pull up [?] down from that [?]
Finessing my lingo, I got it, I got it, like Migo
I need that A1, that mota, that preemo
[?] say I’m salty, I’m stacking my pringles
And breezy bitches asking me if I’m single
I’m working doubles, why I’m averaging triples
Fully loaded like my rifle a pistol
You bitches see me in the [?] ears
Yeah yeah, bitch!
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