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Foot - Roy Nelson Lyrics



Foot - Roy Nelson Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Azmuth ]

Under pressure like crossing borders with a lot of coke
Call me Footy, I'm smoking woodies, that's for the stress and for the cope
Hit the boys, we smoke a joint
Beat the stress like Nelson Roy
Ash on the tray made from Clark
Talk more game than Candice Parker
Don't question me, you're not Shannon Sharp
Sharpie on my soul, graffiti marks
Desensitized, I can't feel a spark
I'm hypnotized, been myself
In my head, my mental health
On I don't know, not centerfold
This sharpie flow, so permanent
Everything I do, deserve a kiss
I'm Chef Footy, put my foot in it
All-white Feiyue for the kicks
Lot of nerves, they hit the cord
I get destroyed, don't know how to cope
Hit the boys, we smoke a joint
Beat the stress like Nelson Roy
I've been outside getting dollars, I've been missing hangs
I've been outside getting dollars, only night time
I can see the fangs
They deprive me, won't deprive you
Smoke a joint by the bayou
Ankle weights when I progress
But I got a thousand and I made it two
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I'm patient cause times ain't been easy
The harder it get, the more focused I get
Because obstructions can be so difficult
If you don't know how to operate under some stress
Under harsh conditions, a kick in the chest
Life will take all of your breath
Advancing two steps, but taking three back
All about work, ain't no time to relax
Your mind is your biggest enemy
Attack
I beat up, I beat up, I beat up my past
Don't wanna be lazy, sometimes I just crash
But when we make it, I can sleep on my cash
Wanna kill a feeling, it keep coming back
I drink till I sink all my pain in the glass
You drink so you think she be liking your ass
Don't deal with f*ck boys, they a pain in the ass
She rolling it up while we run through the grass
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

Under pressure like crossing borders with a lot of coke
Call me Footy, I'm smoking woodies, that's for the stress and for the cope
Hit the boys, we smoke a joint
Beat the stress like Nelson Roy
Ash on the tray made from Clark
Talk more game than Candice Parker
Don't question me, you're not Shannon Sharp
Sharpie on my soul, graffiti marks
Desensitized, I can't feel a spark
I'm hypnotized, been myself
In my head, my mental health
On I don't know, not centerfold
This sharpie flow, so permanent
Everything I do, deserve a kiss
I'm Chef Footy, put my foot in it
All-white Feiyue for the kicks
Lot of nerves, they hit the cord
I get destroyed, don't know how to cope
Hit the boys, we smoke a joint
Beat the stress like Nelson Roy
I've been outside getting dollars, I've been missing hangs
I've been outside getting dollars, only night time
I can see the fangs
They deprive me, won't deprive you
Smoke a joint by the bayou
Ankle weights when I progress
But I got a thousand and I made it two
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I'm patient cause times ain't been easy
The harder it get, the more focused I get
Because obstructions can be so difficult
If you don't know how to operate under some stress
Under harsh conditions, a kick in the chest
Life will take all of your breath
Advancing two steps, but taking three back
All about work, ain't no time to relax
Your mind is your biggest enemy
Attack
I beat up, I beat up, I beat up my past
Don't wanna be lazy, sometimes I just crash
But when we make it, I can sleep on my cash
Wanna kill a feeling, it keep coming back
I drink till I sink all my pain in the glass
You drink so you think she be liking your ass
Don't deal with f*ck boys, they a pain in the ass
She rolling it up while we run through the grass
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
I got money, I got money for ya
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jacob Washington
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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Foot - Roy Nelson Video
(Show video at the top of the page)


Performed By: Foot
Featuring: Azmuth
Language: English
Length: 2:56
Written by: Jacob Washington

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