5AM In Rochester PT2 Lord Frieza Style by Yankee Gold Lyrics
[Intro:(K'lee)]
Yeah
NFO till Forever
Keep the Roc all together
Word, Lord Frieza Style
[Verse 1: Yankee Gold]
Cotton get loaded my nigga time to pull fuckin' triggers
Been in that basement too long Fuckin' rappin' for tigger
They hear me scremin' the roc, Like you fuckin' wit jigga?
Give em ya tape like cole & he probably'll deal ya
Like im fuckin' familiar
I'm at the bottom of the map
Times that with these niggas that never'll feel ya
They want a spot
I want a spot
Never sharing familias
This NFO is on the go
Barricade the fulfillment
They like what you instilling?
I say bitch I am I killin'
Last year I was ass now I feel like a million
But pockets still lintin', fuck the feelings, no room for ceilings
You shuffling decks, man cut the checks
Ain't no room for dealing
Why you mad?
I ain't mad, I'm just speakin' it realer
Don't speak on no shit you know yo ass can't fuckin' deal wit
Fuckin' up rules
Use the flows that you been stealin'
He said fuck too many times
Who the fuck is he feeling
This ol curvy ass chick
Them old bitches that I hit
Could never keep up with the Shits
No disrespect to ya'll
But let me give yo ass a tip
You think I'm finna stay with you
When brodie hit the same clit?
Please, you only good for yo knees
She call me R. Kelly cause I'm pissin' out my seeds
Man enough about me
& Rap more about me
That's body the best
Niggas be so obvi to test
I'm tired of grading papers
Always fuckin' marking the F
I dropped the bird
Guess it's time for me to work on my chest
Too many rappers in the Roc
It's time to cut down the list
And Niggas always wanna build, but can't afford em brick
You throw suggestions at em, but they be to broke for the tip
And Niggas using big words but you still ain't heard
You niggas talkin' bout them corners, but you still ain't curve
And To you rappers in the Roc
Man you best be on yo jingle
I got Charlie Sheen wit me
And he best be ready to mingle
To these bitches who ain't worth shit, but they mouths & some pringles
Ya'll need to take a toilet seat wit cha shitty ass singles
I'm da la soul
You day la old
My girl sing better than erykah & it's Common we grow
And on that lightskin shit, nigga is common i glow
Go head & Get it back
Coming through this rap shit wit facts
Im on my boom bap scat
Ratatat tat tat tat
Hear all these word go BLAP
BLAP BLAP BLAP BLAP
Hear me rap
On theses roads, go for gold
Fuck a plaque
Ain't no reason for the treason
Fuck them niggas stabbin' backs
Got my niggas, them my niggas
Free my niggas from stress
It ain't no guess that It ain't no easy way to be the best
This early morning work, I'm waking up into the stretch
I'm sayin' Peace to the number seven
Everybody else get the four nine three eleven
Bitch
& that's Rich, nigga
Rap shit, im the baddest
My name use to be Cassius
I'm so muuufuckin' lavish
Bad shit
Yeah
NFO till Forever
Keep the Roc all together
Word, Lord Frieza Style
[Verse 1: Yankee Gold]
Cotton get loaded my nigga time to pull fuckin' triggers
Been in that basement too long Fuckin' rappin' for tigger
They hear me scremin' the roc, Like you fuckin' wit jigga?
Give em ya tape like cole & he probably'll deal ya
Like im fuckin' familiar
I'm at the bottom of the map
Times that with these niggas that never'll feel ya
They want a spot
I want a spot
Never sharing familias
This NFO is on the go
Barricade the fulfillment
They like what you instilling?
I say bitch I am I killin'
Last year I was ass now I feel like a million
But pockets still lintin', fuck the feelings, no room for ceilings
You shuffling decks, man cut the checks
Ain't no room for dealing
Why you mad?
I ain't mad, I'm just speakin' it realer
Don't speak on no shit you know yo ass can't fuckin' deal wit
Fuckin' up rules
Use the flows that you been stealin'
He said fuck too many times
Who the fuck is he feeling
This ol curvy ass chick
Them old bitches that I hit
Could never keep up with the Shits
No disrespect to ya'll
But let me give yo ass a tip
You think I'm finna stay with you
When brodie hit the same clit?
Please, you only good for yo knees
She call me R. Kelly cause I'm pissin' out my seeds
Man enough about me
& Rap more about me
That's body the best
Niggas be so obvi to test
I'm tired of grading papers
Always fuckin' marking the F
I dropped the bird
Guess it's time for me to work on my chest
Too many rappers in the Roc
It's time to cut down the list
And Niggas always wanna build, but can't afford em brick
You throw suggestions at em, but they be to broke for the tip
And Niggas using big words but you still ain't heard
You niggas talkin' bout them corners, but you still ain't curve
And To you rappers in the Roc
Man you best be on yo jingle
I got Charlie Sheen wit me
And he best be ready to mingle
To these bitches who ain't worth shit, but they mouths & some pringles
Ya'll need to take a toilet seat wit cha shitty ass singles
I'm da la soul
You day la old
My girl sing better than erykah & it's Common we grow
And on that lightskin shit, nigga is common i glow
Go head & Get it back
Coming through this rap shit wit facts
Im on my boom bap scat
Ratatat tat tat tat
Hear all these word go BLAP
BLAP BLAP BLAP BLAP
Hear me rap
On theses roads, go for gold
Fuck a plaque
Ain't no reason for the treason
Fuck them niggas stabbin' backs
Got my niggas, them my niggas
Free my niggas from stress
It ain't no guess that It ain't no easy way to be the best
This early morning work, I'm waking up into the stretch
I'm sayin' Peace to the number seven
Everybody else get the four nine three eleven
Bitch
& that's Rich, nigga
Rap shit, im the baddest
My name use to be Cassius
I'm so muuufuckin' lavish
Bad shit