Was on parole had to wait till my day come
9-5 put in work no pay stub
He wanted beef but this sauce man its A-1
Rob him for his burner then shoot him with the same gun
No slime gang we the live gang
Swing by like Tarzan
We put a nine in money piling
Make me look like a giant
And I heard he want me dead
We coming with a army
We aint coming with the feds
Whipped crack up in the basement to pay the rent
Got niggaz who ain't make it, they in the pen
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
And I heard he on the dope again
He cope with meds type to go tell on his co-defendants
Don't tell me no lies
You weren't in the kitcken you weren't selling no pies
You went to class like a regular guy
I did math with the 4 and the 5
I pay a shooter get a nigga for the low
I aint talking birds when I'm shooting at his crow
Who's telling me something
And that cokes like flour watch me whip up a dumplin
We gon make him cry like he peeling a onion
Send him to the sky we aint settle for nothing
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
Hunnids in the safe, touch it bullets jumping like a bunny in a race
Please dont let me smoke you, I got killaz all around turn u tofu
Sicko did the race, till he got shot now hes locked in the cage
Free the dogs
All my niggaz in jail
I feel it for em cause I did it know they going through hell
Use to hate spitting bars by the bars of my cell
And my celly was a demon he a product of hell
C.O hear us screaming no-one coming for help
Ain't shower in 2 weeks they enjoying the smell
I get flash backs when I locked down had to pack packs
Now im getting money yeah them fat racks
I don't wanna sell dope again
To buy a benz I feel sorry for my older heads
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
Roney - Mismatch Lyrics
Roney - Mismatch Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Was on parole had to wait till my day come
9-5 put in work no pay stub
He wanted beef but this sauce man its A-1
Rob him for his burner then shoot him with the same gun
No slime gang we the live gang
Swing by like Tarzan
We put a nine in money piling
Make me look like a giant
And I heard he want me dead
We coming with a army
We aint coming with the feds
Whipped crack up in the basement to pay the rent
Got niggaz who ain't make it, they in the pen
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
And I heard he on the dope again
He cope with meds type to go tell on his co-defendants
Don't tell me no lies
You weren't in the kitcken you weren't selling no pies
You went to class like a regular guy
I did math with the 4 and the 5
I pay a shooter get a nigga for the low
I aint talking birds when I'm shooting at his crow
Who's telling me something
And that cokes like flour watch me whip up a dumplin
We gon make him cry like he peeling a onion
Send him to the sky we aint settle for nothing
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
Hunnids in the safe, touch it bullets jumping like a bunny in a race
Please dont let me smoke you, I got killaz all around turn u tofu
Sicko did the race, till he got shot now hes locked in the cage
Free the dogs
All my niggaz in jail
I feel it for em cause I did it know they going through hell
Use to hate spitting bars by the bars of my cell
And my celly was a demon he a product of hell
C.O hear us screaming no-one coming for help
Ain't shower in 2 weeks they enjoying the smell
I get flash backs when I locked down had to pack packs
Now im getting money yeah them fat racks
I don't wanna sell dope again
To buy a benz I feel sorry for my older heads
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
9-5 put in work no pay stub
He wanted beef but this sauce man its A-1
Rob him for his burner then shoot him with the same gun
No slime gang we the live gang
Swing by like Tarzan
We put a nine in money piling
Make me look like a giant
And I heard he want me dead
We coming with a army
We aint coming with the feds
Whipped crack up in the basement to pay the rent
Got niggaz who ain't make it, they in the pen
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
And I heard he on the dope again
He cope with meds type to go tell on his co-defendants
Don't tell me no lies
You weren't in the kitcken you weren't selling no pies
You went to class like a regular guy
I did math with the 4 and the 5
I pay a shooter get a nigga for the low
I aint talking birds when I'm shooting at his crow
Who's telling me something
And that cokes like flour watch me whip up a dumplin
We gon make him cry like he peeling a onion
Send him to the sky we aint settle for nothing
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
Hunnids in the safe, touch it bullets jumping like a bunny in a race
Please dont let me smoke you, I got killaz all around turn u tofu
Sicko did the race, till he got shot now hes locked in the cage
Free the dogs
All my niggaz in jail
I feel it for em cause I did it know they going through hell
Use to hate spitting bars by the bars of my cell
And my celly was a demon he a product of hell
C.O hear us screaming no-one coming for help
Ain't shower in 2 weeks they enjoying the smell
I get flash backs when I locked down had to pack packs
Now im getting money yeah them fat racks
I don't wanna sell dope again
To buy a benz I feel sorry for my older heads
We gon whip fast
This the typa dope that give him whip lash
Came up off a stove with a big bag
U the typa nigga call dispatch
We don't fist fight
That's a mismatch
Writer: Tyrone Noel Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN)
Copyright: Lyrics © Society of Composers, Authors and Music Publishers of Canada (SOCAN)