Jpegmafia Rock N Roll Is Dead Lyrics
Rock N Roll Is Dead by JPEGMAFIA
[Intro: Big Daddy Hoffa]
You think you know me
Big Daddy Hoffa coming to you here with a
Kimber Team Match II .45, 1911
This baby oughta be nice right there
Cocked, locked and ready to rock
[Chorus]
Uh, one two
High key
Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Naw fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road (Uh)
I just ended rock n roll (Uh)
We've been running up the score (Uh)
Turnt your house into a home (Yeah)
[Verse 1]
Uh, I don't fucking roam
All I do is count the cash
Bitch I'm coming in your house
Let's get freaky with the strap (Nasty!)
We don't fuck with alt right
Y'all ain't never been a threat (Right)
If y'all come to Baltimore we gon' stick 'em for their racks (Nigga)
We gon' beat them crackers dead (Yeah)
We gon' fuck up on they wife (W-wife)
Take 'em for a ride, more hits, more life
Tight grip on the chopper, that kickback light
Put hands on a blogger, make him beg for his life
[Chorus]
Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Nah fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road
I just ended rock 'n' roll
We've been running up the score (Woo)
[Verse 2]
I say that pussy's off the richter
No shit, uh, I fuck that bitch
I fuck your babysitter, I hit her
I took her to a show, man what's the issue
I split her, this groovy nigga bangin' on your sister
The kicker, I can't breathe
[Bridge]
How many cars does it take
To make this shit an easy race (Pussy pop)
Uh, ow many cars does it take to make this fucking pain go away
Truth!
[Outro]
Ooh
Ooh, Early!
This shit poppin', comin' out the-
I'm out of options
I'm out of options
I'm-
You think you know me
Big Daddy Hoffa coming to you here with a
Kimber Team Match II .45, 1911
This baby oughta be nice right there
Cocked, locked and ready to rock
[Chorus]
Uh, one two
High key
Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Naw fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road (Uh)
I just ended rock n roll (Uh)
We've been running up the score (Uh)
Turnt your house into a home (Yeah)
[Verse 1]
Uh, I don't fucking roam
All I do is count the cash
Bitch I'm coming in your house
Let's get freaky with the strap (Nasty!)
We don't fuck with alt right
Y'all ain't never been a threat (Right)
If y'all come to Baltimore we gon' stick 'em for their racks (Nigga)
We gon' beat them crackers dead (Yeah)
We gon' fuck up on they wife (W-wife)
Take 'em for a ride, more hits, more life
Tight grip on the chopper, that kickback light
Put hands on a blogger, make him beg for his life
[Chorus]
Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Nah fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fucking road
I just ended rock 'n' roll
We've been running up the score (Woo)
[Verse 2]
I say that pussy's off the richter
No shit, uh, I fuck that bitch
I fuck your babysitter, I hit her
I took her to a show, man what's the issue
I split her, this groovy nigga bangin' on your sister
The kicker, I can't breathe
[Bridge]
How many cars does it take
To make this shit an easy race (Pussy pop)
Uh, ow many cars does it take to make this fucking pain go away
Truth!
[Outro]
Ooh
Ooh, Early!
This shit poppin', comin' out the-
I'm out of options
I'm out of options
I'm-