Trippie Redd feat. Chief Keef – Rock Out Lyrics

Lyrics Rock Out – Trippie Redd feat. Chief Keef

Yeah, yeah..
We let it rock like a band
Shooters pull up in a van
I spin the block in a Lamb’
Know it’s all white like the Klan
Yeah, the streets hot, get a tan
Step on that boy, he an ant
Wanna be me, but he can’t
We could play who’s Dirty Dan
Hop out the foreign with Glock in my hand

Got that rock in my sock, I’ma hit me a bop
Lame-ass n**ga act like he wan’ rob
Let this s**t rock like a motherf**kin’ band
Big bro say he wan’ play with the drum
Rock out gang, keep drumsticks
I’m a big dog, you n**gas some pups
Make that boy roll over and sit
Pop out with the gang, you know that it’s lit
Pull up with the mob, you know that we thick
I came from the trench, as real as it get
Pourin’ up dirty, it’s muddy as s**t
Woke up this morning, was f**kin’ your b**ch
He from ‘burbs, we from the bricks

He hit the gym, we hit the lick
He hit the puff, I hit the spliff
I’m in the Lamb’, he in the Lyft
He is a ho, I am the gift
High like a jet, he high in a blimp
Real deal stepper, that n**ga a simp
He think he a pimp, but he a trick
She get on that dick and she doin’ some tricks
Chopper to your face, pop it like a zit
Coppers in the place, now I gotta dip
See the stars, double R in this b**ch
Spaceship, go to Mars in this b**ch
Big Blood, blue hundreds like a Crip
Big bird, real deal fly s**t

Dogs with me, I’ll make ’em sic
Lambo’, it cost a grip
Call it aid, it gon’ make ’em sick
R.I.P. a n**ga off the rip
Five hundred K off a trip
Nine hundred K off a flip
Nine million dollars off of spliff
Made that in 2012

More money like Israel
Gold statues in the crib
Chief Sosa gang like for real
Hit your block, you can’t make a seal
God told me to give ’em hell
If it’s smoke, n**ga, ring the bell
On FaceTime, couldn’t even tell
Sendin’ shells like Google Mail

In jail, I got beaucoup mill’
Beat your block like two-three-twelve
What you smokin’, Got a dookie smell
I could show you how the Tookie smell
Nine million dollars off the lean
Flashlight on top of the bean
Cherry ‘Cat like top of some cream
He in the trap on top of a fiend
Muhammad Ali, bob and weave
Make it hot, now we weavin’ the scene
Justin Bieber on me, he with a song
N**ga tweak, now I’m makin’ him sing…

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