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Shawn Mullins - Rollin' Dolo lyrics
That's right, Boston
 Yeah, Boston niggas be rollin' dolo from state to stae
 It's nothing, we do this
 [Chorus]
 Still nobody guards I stay sucker free
 Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees
 Rollin' Dolo from state to state
 Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate
 [Guru]
 Yo, jealousy can kill so I test my skill
 Any pomp I can romp and stomp at will
 Now as I gets my thrill it's like my daily drill
 You spill raps and in (?) I've been made to ill
 You can't talk the talk, you can't walk the walk
 Been dwelling with the muggers and the murderers talk
 Your shocked by the way I regulate ya' obliterate ya'
 Erase your obsolete weak cheap data
 [ED O.G.]
 It's this hip-hop art I stay true to, crack brew to
 I fuck your girl a lot better than you do
 The type of lyrics I spit will never fail you
 Battle you online, type a letter forward it then email you
 Take you off the track and de-rail you
 Get the hell out my face don't want to be near you
 Don't want your snippets hate your album or your headshots
 It's ED O.G. in the black-fitted Red Sox
 Thuggin' the streets but you soft at home
 You got skills off the dome?
 I'm a off your dome
 This is a battlefield, no time for screaming and yelling
 You get smacked in the face use your ice for the swelling
 Besides the records I'm selling
 My momma' raised no felon
 On the hunt like Helen
 For whack rappers who's jellin'
 This is drama not a kitty show
 You want to get fucked up
 Like the low-budget video
 I know a lot of time's passed
 The ED O.G. is still here and ya'll still half-ass
 [Chorus]
 {Ya'll still half ass}
 {Ya'll half-ass rappers}
 Still nobody guards I stay sucker free
 Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees
 Rollin' Dolo from state to state
 Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate
 [Big Shug]
 It's the return of the mouth-musher, skull-crusher
 Pack myself with two nines and (?)
 That nigga all day beating down suckers
 Sporting the game making it get more rougher
 The face-puncher the hot-cruncher
 The have it with gods for the law out-to-luncher
 The seven-thirty, know I'm more than a sick man
 The streets raised this wild ass nigga from "Murderpan"Shawn Mullins - Rollin' Dolo - http://motolyrics.com/shawn-mullins/rollin-dolo-lyrics.html
 The real rapper the pimp-slapper
 The put on the socks with your suit and stay dapper
 Whoa, the chump-choker the backwood tree smoker
 Stash the gats in the sofa it's all over
 One life to live and that's that
 I keep my lyrics heavily packed and cocked back
 I'll smash you right in your fucking face black
 I'm the realest nigga what you know about that
 I'm a let my skills shine like brand new chrome
 And tell them son-niggas you run with that daddy's home
 I roll dolo from state to state it feels great
 And in two thousand get on the stage and demonstrate
 [Chorus]
 Still nobody guards I stay sucker free
 Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees
 Rollin' Dolo from state to state
 Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate
 [Guru]
 No holds barred I'm going all out
 I don't think your for real I think your all mouth
 So bust one for my dogs locked down
 And for my real rap lovers know I got it locked down
 Untill your blocked down, punks get beat down
 You can't rock a party take a seat you clown
 I frown upon scavengers and wannabe's
 Commit atrocities upon MC's who think they heart is mean
 [Chorus]
 Still nobody guards I stay sucker free
 Still sling rhymes hard I stay puffing trees
 Rollin' Dolo from state to state
 Still drop the hot shit for you to pull out your crate
 [Krumbsnatcha]
 Smokey gray Lexus, diamond necklace
 We livin' wreckless and die for these inspectors
 The four pounders, cock the name on you out-of-towners
 And what, henne' filled cups peep the diamond cut
 Ice, paradise, living in the thug life
 Married to the game fuck a lame diggin' out your wife
 Loving all these block wars do shit that's uncalled for
 Make money in your spot get it locked, shoot down four
 For all your ghetto revenues
 Spraying through any avenue
 Running I'll be grabbing you
 Hog-tied and smacking you
 With heaters on purpose
 Hold you hostage like you was Turkish
 And your pussy ass elevated gut it down your worthless
 These thoughts is vivid and we talk if you live it
 Rappers brag about a town but don't get respect in it
 Ain't a damn shame, whats thats man's name
 That got a flame to his nut
 Clearing out his spot with a rusted hook
 Trust me it's not this entertainment
 Ask the judges that face me on the arrangement
 Plus I came with, hundreds of niggas that think the same
 The plastic hotter than acid to melt the brain
 You know the rest man








