Blow 4 Blow Lyrics - lyricsmin

LYRIC


Blow 4 Blow Lyrics by Rome Streetz Ft. Stove God Cooks & Benny the Butcher, from the album “Kiss The Ring“, music has been produced by Conductor Williams, and Blow 4 Blow song lyrics are penned down by Rome Streetz, Benny the Butcher, Stove God Cooks, Conductor Williams, Ola Ray & Michael Jackson.

Blow 4 Blow Lyrics

Can we get out of here?
No, I’m enjoying this
(Conductor, we have a problem)
(Conductor, we have a problem)
(Conductor, conductor, we have a problem)

Yo, him star, I raise and rip a yute
You’re minuscule, gettin’ paid work I weighed on the supreme digital (Uh-huh)
I eat you niggas full (Fuck outta here)
I played the low all night, gettin’ right, sellin’ a broken down ’62 (I did)
Now it’s autograph lumb sums from rap residuals
I know seein’ me style is makin’ you niggas miserable (Haha)
Keep watchin’ my moves, you gon’ be suicidal
I’m the God, I always knew to nevеr worship idols
Do the care, if I blow the wig off, who hold thе title?
It’s spills of blood in my rival, all over his bible
Zip ties on my Off-White Nike shoe
Properly flip pies, click with guys that’ll knife you (Uh-huh)
Who don’t speak much, read body language and move smart
Keep a Chrome, Trey pound to match the Chrome hearts
Pay me all time, all hundreds, like I’m a loan shark
Mommy said, “You should be rich already, think you so smart”
‘Fore monetary, I was wealthy in the mind already
Playin’ first to execute millions, I need many
You niggas hopeless and your pockets got pennies with holes
Your attempt to copy a slop if we broke the mode (Woah)
I had coke, I made the fiends go blow for blow
Whoever ain’t overdose, niggas know we’re close

Hahaha
Fuck outta here
One brick, two brick, three (Hahaha)
Ah

Syrup in the sound case (Ah)
You know who run shit (We do), kilo rappers unzipped (Oh)
I mean, they probably did somethin’, but they ain’t done this (Haha)
They shot the plug whip
He died in the parking lot, with like a hundred bricks (Brr, brr)
I got the news, was out in Paris, it fucked up my trip (Dang)
Like, why he couldn’t get killed after the drop-off? (Haha)
We got the Maybach truck outside the Mondrian
They like, “You doin’ cocaine numbers with that vinyl, huh?” (We is)
Yeah, bitch, I took that wax and went Daniel Son (Woo)
I dove head first in the blocks
Had the bread stuffed in a box, flame so hot, I dropped the pot
I caught it and the cookie still was good, I’m Magic Johnson
If we holdin’ Ace bottles on the couch, we got the choppers in (Brr, baow, choppers)
Ooh, the feds comin’ (Ooh, they comin’)
Turn the phones off, the feds comin’ (Turn the phones off)
Them niggas hangin’ out the window ain’t tryna dead nothin’ (Brr, baow)
Them niggas ain’t—, Stove, nigga (Haha)

Yeah, this rap shit got me back, I swear to God, it’s a blessin’
We still toxic like ramen and Carmen Electra
I’m puttin’ them all in a shredder, my bars gettin’ better
I’m talkin’ slickest raindrops fallin’ off an umbrella
That’s what happens when them bullshit rumors get back to me (Heard what you said)
It’s like givin’ an arsonist matches and gasoline, nigga
I’m on your neck, like that tank on Master P, nah
Nigga, I’m on your neck, like tag on tee’s
Coach called me in to play, I stopped playin’ in bench (I did)
My baby mama made a post and I stopped payin’ the rent (Damn)
My watch hit like, “Goddamn, the clock hittin’ at six”
Won’t get a word out of whoever I hand a brick
I’m a hustler, so I can deliver if you got an order (On my way)
‘Cause they got rich off shit that was free, like bottle of water
Who there when your dollars shorter? (Who there?)
I’m like KD in Free Agency, powin’ offers
And I won’t take a dollar shorter (Ah)
You’d probably be up too if you had some rich partners
Compressors make pack drink, like a rich doctor
I’m a thrift shopper, brick locker, a whip copper
WNBA, score on ’em and then block ’em (Then block ’em)
Uh-huh, these for the boys that I made a man
Hustlers, I handed they first packs and gave a chance
If you’re lookin’ for a hustle and need you a stable plan
I suggest you stand next to the God, like Abraham (Abraham)
Butcher, nigga, ah, let’s go

The spring water
And I was cracked out on crack cocaine, but I’m still fightin’
‘Cause I got to keep my gloves on for the devil and his evil angels
But I’m—, I’m—, I’m—, I was cracked out on crack cocaine
Now I’m cracked out on Jesus
And I’m a minister
I’m a minister for the love, hallelujah
Cracked out on crack cocaine, now he’s a minister of the gospel


SONG INFO:

Song: Blow 4 Blow
Album: Kiss The Ring (2022)
Singer: Rome Streetz Ft. Stove God Cooks & Benny the Butcher
Music: Conductor Williams
Lyrics: Rome Streetz, Benny the Butcher, Stove God Cooks, Conductor Williams, Ola Ray & Michael Jackson



Added by

lyricsmin

SHARE

ADVERTISEMENT

VIDEO