Roll Call by TMR Lyrics

Who told y'all to come in
I'm fucking this bitch like bitch can you stop running
If you don't run to the cash bitch ima dip
With me it's a gift when you walk on my hip
Get back to the telly (Hotel) no talking just strip
When it's time for the jack grab the mac and the whip
I feed her the D like its mac or some whip
You out of line my bitch pack extra clips nigga
Do or die in the big game
G of loud meet the bic flame
Main dish be the coke marijuana be the fixing
Lil' niggas on the corner since 5th grade
Gotta diploma grade A class wrist game
B-I G nigga no bedstuy
Slow head in the whip on the west side
West side you know is the best side, feel me
Feel me
Shout out Fresh Gang, All my niggas
But I'm in this bitch by myself though
I came in this bitch my motherfucking self
I hope she ain't pregnant roll up and forget it
The bitches they hate when I call them a B
It's nothing to me but they always do catch it
I sit back relax and watch all of my B's
Cuz shit can get hectic only if you let it
Maxing my cream
Fetti on fetti on fetti on fetti on fetti