Foot On Ya Neck 4Ever lyrics

[Verse 1: Rome Streetz]
Uh
Sometimes I ask myself do she love me?
She bag the work up when I ask her said "my lifestyle ugly"
I swear she been down since I used to shop at Rugby
Now the trench coat Gosha and all these thotties touchy
Fly n*gga keeping out this husky
You hustle nothing son you just a Custy
Sold a ton out the front seat
Took a loss made triple that back in one week
Rolling thunder in the blunt leaf
Gold front teeth, my speech never cheap hoe my talk is Guap
Games to be sold you n*ggas telling sh*t and lost the plot
Hope and Lox said "Prayers over ball and pots"
Whipping with the butter knife f*ck it that's all we got
The stash went from the tube sock to the shoebox
Now its pay-pals from Japan from my new drop
Hoes think I'm famous lately I been running through twat
Tell them get naked and toss it up like I'm Tupac
It's the kid that's made food outcha idols
Kings lose the crown on they head too it's all a cycle
It's ya last supper I bury you with ya' bible
I see no motherf*ckin' rival

[Hook: Rome Streetz]
Doing number these b*tches think I'm the sh*t now
Ain't trickin' only thing she get is di*ked down
Roll the weed up, count money and p*ss Cristal
Need a Rollie on the wrist dial, for real
Doing number these b*tches think I'm the sh*t now
Ain't trickin' only thing she get is di*ked down
Roll the weed up, count money and p*ss Cristal
Need a Rollie on the wrist dial
[Verse 2: Rome Streetz]
Let me talk my sh*t like Eddie in the red leather
She ask me when ima slow down I told a Heffer never
I'm on they necks forever, better respect the pressure
Been told you I'm the ruler and you'll never measure
Only thing I know is dope chase
Best believe I f*ck a fan I'm like Ghost Face, killah cold case
f*ck a fingerprint I'm never leaving no trace
Only signatures from signing titties at my show dates
Riding through the city thinking 'bout how far I came
Thinking I used to sell cocaine now fans in Italy know my name
Taking flights smoking trees on beaches
Gold chains dropping six hundred for the sneakers
f*cking dimes with sexy complexions and foreign features
sh*t I'm on is way out of you f*ck n*ggas reaches
You wasn't on sh*t before rap it's all fallacy
Street economics on the corners I made a salary
Gassed up I aim and knock the acid out your battery
Give my runner piece of the package he bring a stack to me

[Hook: Rome Streetz]
Doing number these b*tches think I'm the sh*t now
Ain't trickin' only thing she get is di*ked down
Roll the weed up, count money and p*ss Cristal
Need a Rollie on the wrist now, for real
Doing number these b*tches think I'm the sh*t now
Ain't trickin' only thing she get is di*ked down
Roll the weed up, count money and p*ss Cristal
Need a Rollie on the wrist now