NBA Youngboy – Rose Gold Lyrics

NBA Youngboy – Rose Gold Lyrics

Uh, tell them niggas stay out my way, I’m good
Tell ’em I don’t need no award, I’m ‘hood
Ho wan’ fuck, tell the bitch, “Let’s do it”
Rolls Royce umbrella, she thought they were canes
Jump in a Bentley, I jump off a plain
Swervin’ that Phantom, still duckin’ the cams
I’m the shit, fuck a Pamper, they bring up my name
Not wearin’ white, everything rose gold
Got another nigga ho tryna take my soul
Put in the Patek and it came two-tone
Cartier bracelets with Jacob & Co
Sit up and cope
Hopin’ it’s plain jane, keep a nigga heart cold, woah
Fuck nigga want you to say you want smoke
Fuck on these hoes and they fresh like the Pope

Shoot wit’ the Glock like I’m Ja
Global, don’t need no WiFi
She know I ain’t doin’ shit for hundred thousand
Fuck ’em, go tell ’em I’m hot now
I waited to blow, I popped now
One million dollars, I’m turnin’ it down
One hundred million, I’m chasin’ it down
Controllin’ my business inside of my home
Rich nigga, Bentley sittin’ dead ’cause nobody drive it round
Case with the feds, I’m just waitin’ [?]
Celine, color red lookin’ like he sellin’ pounds
Jimmy Choo granted, my AP is matchin’
My shorts got ’em both in the color of brown
Hold up, know the whole thing rose gold
Sit and I think, I’m just watchin’ her tone
Makin’ [?] ‘cus lil ho I ain’t regular
Fuck ’em, it don’t make a difference because they ain’t scared of us
Every contestant, I buried ’em
We’re laughin’ everytime they say they head of us
Grind all day, I don’t do no clubbin’
Pushin’ who? Bro, it’ll turn out ugly
Remember I said only you can trust me
Know I’m cutthroat, slime, just like my cousin

Uh, tell them niggas stay out my way, I’m good
Tell ’em I don’t need no award, I’m ‘hood
Ho wan’ fuck, tell the bitch, “Let’s do it”
Rolls Royce umbrella, she thought they were canes
Jump in a Bentley, I jump off a plain
Swervin’ that Phantom, still duckin’ the cams
I’m the shit, fuck a Pamper, they bring up my name
Not wearin’ white, everything rose gold
Got another nigga ho tryna take my soul
Put in the Patek and it came two-tone
Cartier bracelets with Jacob & Co
Sit up and cope
Hopin’ it’s plain jane, keep a nigga heart cold, woah
Fuck nigga want you to say you want smoke
Fuck on these hoes and they fresh like the Pope

Gangsta Grillz

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