Tekst piosenki 'Roberto C (feat. Unknown T)' wykonawcy Young T & Bugsey

Florence, Italy, Roberto Cavalli
Had the Kelly Rowl', now it's Ashanti
We gon' double up the frame on the car seat
Can't be too safe, you know it's on me

That my bestie, gave her the car keys
Put my young G all in Versace
No bluff, I ain't inna’ malarkey
When you lonely, you better call me

I can't fuck with niggas if they fuckin' with my enemy
Dismiss it, I ain't rockin' with that energy
Pain in my membrane, the roads in my memories
Thinking 'bout my nigga, I had to dropped a likkle Hennessy

Remember when I blast a gun charge in the secondary
Mourning, now I'm pourin' red rum, in the cemetery
No legal debate, my QC's got chemistry
Miraculously in the streets, like Sesame

We at a dinner but my OT bitch bellin' me
Polly on my shoulder, think I move too peppery
She was movin' pattern but my boo ting’ stressin' me
Live in the mechanic, I should do a documentary

Bark it, I can't drop it cah the polly and the press on me
I was gonna bruck it but my codie wasn't lettin' me
Two-two's, four-doors and the remedies
Cock it when I pop it, blow the whistle like a referee

Can I get a lead from all my ladies?
I got Louis on my laces
I need the AP or the Day Date, yeah
Send, on a way, we in Chane', 'ne, yeah

Dealings, dealings
In the Lamb' truck with my demons
She freak and teach me
Lean on me, yeah

Florence, Italy, Roberto Cavalli
Had the Kelly Rowl', now it's Ashanti
We gon' double up the frame on the car seat
Can't be too safe, you know it's on me

That my bestie, gave her the car keys
Put my young G all in Versace
No bluff, I ain't inna’ malarkey
When you lonely, you better call me

Aight, what's up? We makin' her lay down
Stick right on me, I give her like ten thou'
Couple pistol, brodie, he bury the tre pound
I'ma meet K, here from the fifth, the H-Town

When she shake the bed, give me a lick now
I'ma rock you, mayne, you need to take pride in you
The pure, the Cali, the diesel too sour, yeah
We know how to bake, we whip a egg flour with you

Born winner, the opposite of a gentleman
Remember when I used to eat baked beans for dinner
Done up bait tease, like: Say cheese, my nigga
And in the A3, she ate me forever

I'ma share you Porcello, we make a dream team
Tell me how did you fit in your Billie Jean jeans?
Cop the Christian Dior, I love a bee sting
Coochie wet as a shore, it took a beating

Can I get a lead from all my ladies?
I got Louis on my laces
I need the AP or the Day Date, yeah
Send, on a way, we in Chane', 'ne, yeah

Dealings, dealings
In the Lamb' truck with my demons
She freak and teach me
Lean on me, yeah

Florence, Italy, Roberto Cavalli
Had the Kelly Rowl', now it's Ashanti
We gon' double up the frame on the car seat
Can't be too safe, you know it's on me

That my bestie, gave her the car keys
Put my young G all in Versace
No bluff, I ain't inna’ malarkey
When you lonely, you better call me