Lyrics
Brand new Rover, new Car odor
Super charge on you broads, man, I tried to told you
I don’t live today, I stack chips for tomorrow
Niggas' always owing because you’re always borrowing
Tearing up my phone, we ain’t like that homes
America and TD Banks, hand out loans
Thought you was sending beats, you emailed me your song
Your favorite rappers a pussy nigga, hand him a thong
I know the difference between friends and associates
Niggas' will kill and squeal, watch who you go and get
Have you sitting down for conspiracy
I’ma pay for your lawyer, don’t need no rap fee
When I’m alone in my room
Sometimes I star at the wall, and in the back of my mind
All I know is to ball
Tell a chick «Get dressed», cuz I ain’t looking for love
It’s Bucky Rogers and I got it if you need you a plug
I’m the trash bag king (3x)
That’s right, I bring it in a trash bag, don’t forget the hashtag
I got my eyes on the prize, they wanna kill my demise
I’m bulletproof in the ride, wanted in suits and them ties
And hard bottoms, they ain’t just make yours, we all got them
Heckler and Koch nigga, shoot through blocks
Give my young niggas' a knot, straight open your top
Cuz they don’t care about the next 30 minutes
By time them percs ware off, It’s already finished
New Audemar, the shit swimming
Kitchen; the certified chemist
If you ain’t bout that life then mind your business
You can turn me down, real niggas' turn me up
I don’t rely on rap money so who gives a fuck?
It’s King Rodgers, must I remind you?
Cemetery road, where they find you
My word is my bond, that’s on my momma
And I’m taking 12, so fuck you your honor
When I’m alone in my room
Sometimes I star at the wall, and in the back of my mind
All I know is to ball
Tell a chick «Get dressed», cuz I ain’t looking for love
It’s Bucky Rogers and I got it if you need you a plug
I’m the trash bag king (3x)
That’s right, I bring it in a trash bag, don’t forget the hashtag
When I cop Kilos; pure white cocaine
When he cop Kilos; Cuban Link rope chains
Get your head knocked off your shoulder
You wanna see my arm and hammer like Baking Soda
Pits on social but poodles when we approach you
Your dead beat baby mommas' always roast you
You ain’t 100, you just appear to be
99%, that ain’t real to me
How you look in the mirror, disrespecting the code?
You condoning that shit, you fuck with niggas' that told
And, yeah hoe, I hit some chicks that you know
Since that IG flow, all my ladies; extra joe
I knocked them all down with no feelings
I would name names but baby fathers’ll kill them
Just so happened, the same crew
I’ma lover and a fighter, what the fuck you gonna do?
When I’m alone in my room
Sometimes I star at the wall, and in the back of my mind
All I know is to ball
Tell a chick «Get dressed», cuz I ain’t looking for love
It’s Bucky Rogers and I got it if you need you a plug
I’m the trash bag king (3x)
That’s right, I bring it in a trash bag, don’t forget the hashtag