Seen some rappers rise to the top but they ain't saying much
They're bad poker players, I only see their bluff
Some squares next to each other just like the Brady Bunch
I'll surpass 'em, I mentally got a crazy hunch
You used to hearing me always saying I'm real smooth
Lately the progression hollerin' out, real soon
I'm not Wiz or Snoop, but still the dude to blaze the room
They gon' raise the roof, every single time that I play my tunes
These works of art they belong in the Smithsonian
Put a sock in it, have you on some Mick Foley shit
I'm with the Woodman, the homie who whip the Range Rover
We out to Bella's, three-way to cure the hangover
After a night at the studio making classic shit
I bask in this, nobody iller is coming after this
I promise You ain't ever been up in my zapatos
Extra lemon and butter up on my lobster roll
108 miles per hour on my speedometer
No slowing down or stoppin' us
It's obvious, I bring a lot to the table ain't talking condiments
Know they sleeping on me, but I've been up like I got insomnia
They should know how I'm rocking like a geologist
Should see I'ma be a star it doesn't take an astronomer
And we got this shit lit like a Menorah on Hanukkah
They know our shit hot, they ain't gotta check a thermometer
On our way to the top, f*ck the Earth's curvature and firmament
Struggling to find peace, so I purchased one
Took a loss and came back stronger, I feel like Mario Barrios
Know my flow gon' shine like I used a whole bottle of Mop & Glo
Tryna run it up, I've been working on my cardio
They think I'm crazy like I'm about to let Kodak Black drive the boat
But anything is possible and that's word to KG
Already know I want all the smoke until I can't breathe
Lobster Roll (feat. Triz1) Video (MV)
Jeff Porter - Lobster Roll (feat. Triz1) Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Seen some rappers rise to the top but they ain't saying much
They're bad poker players, I only see their bluff
Some squares next to each other just like the Brady Bunch
I'll surpass 'em, I mentally got a crazy hunch
You used to hearing me always saying I'm real smooth
Lately the progression hollerin' out, real soon
I'm not Wiz or Snoop, but still the dude to blaze the room
They gon' raise the roof, every single time that I play my tunes
These works of art they belong in the Smithsonian
Put a sock in it, have you on some Mick Foley shit
I'm with the Woodman, the homie who whip the Range Rover
We out to Bella's, three-way to cure the hangover
After a night at the studio making classic shit
I bask in this, nobody iller is coming after this
I promise You ain't ever been up in my zapatos
Extra lemon and butter up on my lobster roll
108 miles per hour on my speedometer
No slowing down or stoppin' us
It's obvious, I bring a lot to the table ain't talking condiments
Know they sleeping on me, but I've been up like I got insomnia
They should know how I'm rocking like a geologist
Should see I'ma be a star it doesn't take an astronomer
And we got this shit lit like a Menorah on Hanukkah
They know our shit hot, they ain't gotta check a thermometer
On our way to the top, f*ck the Earth's curvature and firmament
Struggling to find peace, so I purchased one
Took a loss and came back stronger, I feel like Mario Barrios
Know my flow gon' shine like I used a whole bottle of Mop & Glo
Tryna run it up, I've been working on my cardio
They think I'm crazy like I'm about to let Kodak Black drive the boat
But anything is possible and that's word to KG
Already know I want all the smoke until I can't breathe
They're bad poker players, I only see their bluff
Some squares next to each other just like the Brady Bunch
I'll surpass 'em, I mentally got a crazy hunch
You used to hearing me always saying I'm real smooth
Lately the progression hollerin' out, real soon
I'm not Wiz or Snoop, but still the dude to blaze the room
They gon' raise the roof, every single time that I play my tunes
These works of art they belong in the Smithsonian
Put a sock in it, have you on some Mick Foley shit
I'm with the Woodman, the homie who whip the Range Rover
We out to Bella's, three-way to cure the hangover
After a night at the studio making classic shit
I bask in this, nobody iller is coming after this
I promise You ain't ever been up in my zapatos
Extra lemon and butter up on my lobster roll
108 miles per hour on my speedometer
No slowing down or stoppin' us
It's obvious, I bring a lot to the table ain't talking condiments
Know they sleeping on me, but I've been up like I got insomnia
They should know how I'm rocking like a geologist
Should see I'ma be a star it doesn't take an astronomer
And we got this shit lit like a Menorah on Hanukkah
They know our shit hot, they ain't gotta check a thermometer
On our way to the top, f*ck the Earth's curvature and firmament
Struggling to find peace, so I purchased one
Took a loss and came back stronger, I feel like Mario Barrios
Know my flow gon' shine like I used a whole bottle of Mop & Glo
Tryna run it up, I've been working on my cardio
They think I'm crazy like I'm about to let Kodak Black drive the boat
But anything is possible and that's word to KG
Already know I want all the smoke until I can't breathe
Writer: Jeff Porter, Troy Adgurson
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid