The Revenge of Flip’s Leg Westside Gunn & Rome Streetz

[Intro]
(Conductor)

[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Aimin' fire at your favorite (Baow, baow)
Bum-ass niggas is fugazi, I spit in all of they faces (Ahaha)
Flagrant, was pushin' Percocets on the pavement
Now we in Paris posin' in Prada like it's the Vogue pages (Conductor, uh-huh)
All praise is due, I teach you niggas like I'm Noble Drew
We global, you not even close to notable (You niggas trash)
We eatin' Nobu, blow C-notes, get paid for quotables
Take notice, I'm a star like the logo on Golden Goose
Allergic to broke, my only focus is foldin' loot
Got my funds doin' fraud, had boulders for your noses too
'Bows from Oakland, but fuckin' hoes in front of ocean views
They want the likes more than the loot, livin' life confused
A fallen angel that God blessed
In a fast foreign car, keep a firearm in the armrest
Foreign broads flirtin' with the god, they want sex (Uh-huh)
But lately, I'm these hoes' heartthrob and they conquest
Dusty-ass dollar store niggas no contest (Whatever)
Mix Denim Tears with Dior as a calm flex
Hold the devil's heart in my palm and take his horns next (Rrr)
Pose with my foot on his neck, motherfucker

[Bridge]
Glory to the king
Glory to the king
He has been good, He's so worthy
Glory to the king