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Guru

Rollin' Dolo - Featuring Edo. G, Big Shug, And Krumbsnatcha

Lyricist:Angel Luis Aguilar, Edward Anderson, Keith Elam, Demetrius L Gibbs, Cary G Guy

That's right, Boston, yeah, Boston
Niggas be rollin' dolo from state to state
It's nothing, we do this

Still nobody guards, I stay sucker free
Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees
Rollin' dolo from state to state
Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate

Yo, jealousy can kill so I test my skill
Any pomp I can romp and stomp at will
Now as I gets my thrill it's like my daily drill
You spill raps and in Vegas I've been made to ill

You can't talk the talk, you can't walk the walk
Been dwelling with the muggers and the murderers talk
Your shocked by the way I regulate ya obliterate ya
Erase your obsolete weak cheap data

It's this hip-hop art I stay true to, crack brew to
I fuck your girl a lot better than you do
The type of lyrics I spit will never fail you
Battle you online, type a letter forward it then e-mail you
Take you off the track and derail you

Get the hell out my face don't want to be near you
Don't want your snippets hate your album or your head shots
It's ED O.G. in the black-fitted Red Sox
Thuggin' the streets but you soft at home
You got skills off the dome? I'm a off your dome

This is a battlefield, no time for screaming and yelling
You get smacked in the face use your ice for the swelling
Besides the records I'm selling
My momma' raised no felon on the hunt like Helen

For whack rappers who's jellin', this is drama not a kitty show
You want to get fucked up like the low budget video
I know a lot of time's passed
The ED O.G. is still here and y'all still half-ass

Y'all still half ass, y'all half-ass rappers
Yo, still nobody guards I stay sucker free
Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees
Rollin' dolo from state to state
Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate

It's the return of the mouth-musher, skull-crusher
Pack myself with two nines and [Incomprehensible]
That nigga all day, beating down suckers
Sporting the game making it get more rougher
The face puncher, the hot cruncher

The have it with gods for the law out to luncher
The seven-thirty, know I'm more than a sick man
The streets raised this wild ass nigga from murder pan
The real rapper the pimp slapper
The put on the socks with your suit and stay dapper
Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com

Whoa, the chump choker the backwood tree smoker
Stash the gats in the sofa it's all over
One life to live and that's that
I keep my lyrics heavily packed and cocked back
I'll smash you right in your fucking face black

I'm the realest nigga, what you know about that
I'm a let my skills shine like brand new chrome
And tell them son niggas, you run with that daddy's home
I roll dolo from state to state, it feels great
And in two thousand get on the stage and demonstrate

Still nobody guards, I stay sucker free
Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees
Rollin' dolo from state to state
Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate

No holds barred, I'm going all out
I don't think you're for real, I think you're all mouth
So bust one for my dogs locked down
And for my real rap lovers, know I got it locked down

Until your blocked down, punks get beat down
You can't rock a party take a seat, you clown
I frown upon scavengers and wannabes
Commit atrocities upon MC's who think they heart is mean

Still nobody guards, I stay sucker free
Still sling rhymes hard, I stay puffing trees
Rollin' dolo from state to state
Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate

Smokey gray Lexus, diamond necklace
We livin' reckless and die for these inspectors
The four pounders, cock the name on you out of towner's
And what? Hen' filled cups peep the diamond cut

Ice, paradise, living in the thug life
Married to the game fuck a lame diggin' out your wife
Loving all these block wars do shit that's uncalled for
Make money in your spot, get it locked, shoot down four

For all your ghetto revenues, spraying through any avenue
Running I'll be grabbing you hog tied and smacking you
With heaters on purpose, hold you hostage like you was Turkish
And your pussy ass elevated gut it down your worthless

These thoughts is vivid and we talk if you live it
Rappers brag about a town but don't get respect in it
Ain't a damn shame, what's that man's name
That got a flame to his nut, clearing out his spot with a rusted hook

Trust me it's not this entertainment
Ask the judges that face me on the arrangement
Plus I came with hundreds of niggas that think the same
The plastic hotter than acid to melt the brain, you know the rest man