Showmann Tha' Lion - R.O.Y.S. lyrics

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Showmann Tha' Lion - R.O.Y.S. lyrics

Yeah Show. Ohio *Clears Throat** [Verse 1] Wrist Check, Flex Check, bouta Blow my next check/ The Movement Quarterback, you ain't ever gonna Sak Me/ Hacky, Hack my computer for some leaked sh**/ Her a** real soft, but I never keep a weak b**h/ Hoe I'm just enjoying the ride/ Feet up, beat up blowing smoke in my Jordan 5s/ Heat Up Tree Bruh, I'm trying to get in the skies/ But I'm always myself, remain that even with the wealth/ I'm the Truth in the booth, best believe I spit that cold sh**/ My Rap book is crack cook, Right Overs Your Stove b**h/ Oh sh**, Listening to this is like a dope hit/ Even if I lost my camera, wouldn't lose focus/ Cheese, but these rats are not eating/ These other rap n***as just not competing/ n***as sweat as eating sundaes listening to the weeknd/ On the Weekend while they n***as tuck the sheet in pause/ And My Diamonds ain't familiar with yalls/ Because my diamonds ain't familiar with flaws/ And Yo b**h, she ain't familiar with walls/ Cause she don't even get to see the crib my nig we in the car/ I'm cuddled with a couple of models going full throttle in that Mera' 911 I flex like I hit the lotto/ Because I'm rich(broke), I don't worry about sh** yet/ Ain't worried about a piss test, Mary she's my girlfriend/ But I use her like my mistress/ f** all that "Bro" sh** we ain't cool, No gay incest/ My only interest is how to make big checks and then flex/ Harder than you n***as, lil smarter than you n***as/ Jordans on, thats a pair of Sean Carter for you n***as/ Boy I'm Yae's 2nd coming, 20 bars and still running/ I told her back that a** up and you can skip all the fronting/ I know you up in college and that bread you gotta work for it/ But I gotta $100 dollars hoe, why wouldn't you twerk for it/ Why wouldn't you twerk for it? (You Probably would twerk for it hoe) b**h don't even deny/ If not you'd probably go broke and have to apply for Devry/ Coming live from the east side, ain't sh** sweet no nehi/ At Sweet spot we outside sipping mystic key lime/ [Hook] (x4) Oh sh**, listening to this is like a dope hit/ Ri-Ri-Right over your Stove b**h/ [Verse 2:] You n***as better, break bread before I break legs/ f** around put your whole damn career up on its neck/ Its me, Cap Flex, at the same address/ So Girl you know just where to come to get out of that dress/ (Uh) Hi my name is Showmann baby Girl I like to Flex a little/ I might ask for p**y even tho we only text a little/ Girl don't be offended sh** thats just the way I live it/ Ain't no lies up in my raps, all my pictures are real vivid/ As if you could've been there, in that casual menswear/ Section on the bench chillin, in that Saks 5th boutique/ You Playing Chicken with a Mack Truck boy you better grab your cleats/ Cuz we don't play no f**ing games, unless we playing them for keeps/ Hoe [Hook] [Verse 3:] I'd rather spit something that got a purpose, Showmann in the booth I'm always putting work in/ So many n***as getting deals and don't even be worth it/ So when I make it to the top, know that I deserve it/ Damn baby that a** is nice, tell me whats your asking price/ Girl do I really gotta ask you twice or you gon let me smash tonight/ Eating all these beats and I ain't even had no appetite/ Hastags lies told in my raps, I'm trying to take everybody's slice/ No Kimbo, blue timbs hoe, I got lil n***as that will pop you like a pimple/ For some Retros, That simple, they banging like some cymbals, with they kinfolk, over heavy ba** instrumentals/ And I'm doing my absolute best to not come off so sedimental/ Homie Trust God, Work Hard and do not talk to Carl Winslows/ Got my leg up on the wall, Ilthy bookbag full of Demo's/ TME up in the house, even tho I don't got Metro b**h/ DEAD