JPEGMAFIA - Rock N Roll Is Dead Lyrics

(You think you know me)
Big Daddy Hoffa coming to you here with a Kimber
Team Match II .45, 1911
This baby oughta be nice, right there (ooh)
Cocked, locked and ready to rock (oh, uh)
One, two
High key, uh

Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Nah, f*ck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the f*ckin' road (uh)
I just ended rock and roll (uh)
We've been running up the score (uh)
Turnt your house into a home (yeah)

Uh, I don't f*cking roam
All I do is count the cash
Bitch I'm coming in your house
Let's get freaky with the strap (nasty!)
We don't f*ck with alt-right
Y'all ain't never been a threat (right)
If y'all come to Baltimore
We gon' stick 'em for their racks (nigga)
We gon' beat them crackers dead (yeah)
We gon' f*ck up on they wi- (w-wife)
Take 'em for a ride, more hits, more life
Tight grip on the chopper, that kickback light
Put hands on a blogger, make him beg for his life

Gone with the sauce
Got the .45 tucked in the bag
Hit 'em with the hawk
Nah, f*ck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the f*cking road
I just ended rock 'n' roll
We've been running up the score (hoo)

I say that pussy's off the Richter
No shit, uh, I f*ck that bitch
I f*ck your babysitter, I hit her
I took her to a show, man, what's the issue (blat)
I split her, this groovy nigga bangin' on your sister (nah)
No kicker, I can't breathe

How many cars does it take
To make this shit an easy race? (Pussy pop), uh
how many cars does it take to make this f*cking pain go away?
Truth

Ooh
Ooh, early
This shit poppin', comin' out the
I'm out of options
I'm out of options