Rock N Roll Is Dead Lyrics

​elbuod sees [?]
(You think you know me)
Big Daddy Hoffman comin' 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, fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fuckin' road (Uh)
I just ended rock and roll (Uh)
We've been runnin' up the score (Uh)

Turnt your house into a home (Yeah)
Uh, I don't fuckin' roam
All I do is count the cash
Bitch, I'm comin' in your house
Let's get freaky with the strap (Nasty!)
We don't fuck 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' fuck 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, fuck it dawg, whip 'em wit the strap
I've been on the fuckin' road
I just ended rock and roll
We've been runnin' up the score (Hoo)

I say that pussy's off the Richter
No shit, uh, I fucked that bitch (Go back)
I fuck 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)
The kicker, I can't breathe

How many cars does it take
To make this shit an easy race (Pussy pop) (Yuh)
Uh, how many cars does it take to make this fuckin' pain go away
Truth

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