LET ME ROLL MY J x Brown Sugar Concrete (Mashup) by Samantha

[Verse]  
'Cause my nggas ain't losing since the Voice of LA  
Don't let nggas confuse it, it's written all through the vibes  
The DNA's in the music, pray these words that I spew  
Help you untangle confusion, my crew's tight as them Jewish communities  
Spanish to Asians too, private planes, courtside games, Aces and flutes  
Champagne talk, pull up in them places that your Lamb' can't park  
Ducked off, that part, being loud with it ain't smart these days  
It all depends on what part you play, let me roll my J

Came up  
Mud on my lace-up boots  
Mama fried chicken in the Sunday suit  
Church fan waving, choir on fire  
I was scribbling bars on a tractor tire  
Now I’m front row mic with a crooked cap  
Drawl in my jaw, but I spit that crack  
Backroad slang in the city smoke  
Turnt that pain into dirty jokes

[Hook 1]  
Hold on, baby, and baby could you pass me my coffee please?  
I’m that brown sugar concrete  
Country boy walking on a boom-bap beat  
Every time you hit the room make your presence felt  
Got that red clay soul in a northside street  
Make the back row holler when the hook repeat

[Verse]  
Seen it all, whole game is recycled as toss cans  
Deposit just dropped, let's change plans, let's fit a pop  
Roll us, get a yacht in some strange land, party 'til the sunrise  
Pockets deep days in, they telling I'm a joint by the way that I banged in  
Know they gon' judge you by your past and not your present self  
So don't be too quick to prove 'em wrong, stay on your zone  
Just keep moving on, represent your movement strong  
Stay on brand, watch for off-brands

Fast rap, tongue like a broke-down train  
Still I stay on track through the smoke and rain  
Cousin in the pen, he be callin’ collect  
Told me “Live loud, don’t you die in regret”  
So I stack these words like tobacco bales  
Slide on the rhythm like a river on rails  
Little bit of dirt in the gospel hum  
Halo crooked, but the job get done

[Hook 2]  
Hold on, let me roll my J  
And baby could you pass me my coffee please?  
I’m that brown sugar concrete  
Hoarse voice, hurt joy, both on key  
You can hear where I’m from when I breathe that beat

[Bridge – DJ breakdown]  
[Band drops to bass and snaps]  
Gravel in my laugh, satin in my runs (oh)  
Sinner when I talk, preacher when it’s sung  
Hayfield halo, ragtop roll  
Dirty little story with a diamond soul

[Final Run – blended]  
Hold on, baby, stay on brand, watch for off-brands  
Brown sugar concrete in the Voice of LA  
Got that red clay soul in a northside street  
Let me roll my J, let me roll my J

Every time you hit the room make your presence felt  
Make the back row holler when the hook repeat  
From the cornfield wind to the subway heat  
You can hear where I’m from when I breathe that beat  
(A hit dog gon' holler)  
(Bark!)

3116/7500

[Intro] (Ah, man, man, man, man, CEO) Brown sugar concrete Red clay in my jeans (Yeah, hey, day another day to get to it) Two-lane road in my heartbeat Big city in my dreams (yeah) (You going through it, it's your day to get through it) (A real ngga gon' do it) [Verse] 'Cause my nggas ain't losing since the Voice of LA Don't let nggas confuse it, it's written all through the vibes The DNA's in the music, pray these words that I spew Help you untangle confusion, my crew's tight as them Jewish communities Spanish to Asians too, private planes, courtside games, Aces and flutes Champagne talk, pull up in them places that your Lamb' can't park Ducked off, that part, being loud with it ain't smart these days It all depends on what part you play, let me roll my J Came up Mud on my lace-up boots Mama fried chicken in the Sunday suit Church fan waving, choir on fire I was scribbling bars on a tractor tire Now I’m front row mic with a crooked cap Drawl in my jaw, but I spit that crack Backroad slang in the city smoke Turnt that pain into dirty jokes [Hook 1] Hold on, baby, and baby could you pass me my coffee please? I’m that brown sugar concrete Country boy walking on a boom-bap beat Every time you hit the room make your presence felt Got that red clay soul in a northside street Make the back row holler when the hook repeat [Verse] Seen it all, whole game is recycled as toss cans Deposit just dropped, let's change plans, let's fit a pop Roll us, get a yacht in some strange land, party 'til the sunrise Pockets deep days in, they telling I'm a joint by the way that I banged in Know they gon' judge you by your past and not your present self So don't be too quick to prove 'em wrong, stay on your zone Just keep moving on, represent your movement strong Stay on brand, watch for off-brands Fast rap, tongue like a broke-down train Still I stay on track through the smoke and rain Cousin in the pen, he be callin’ collect Told me “Live loud, don’t you die in regret” So I stack these words like tobacco bales Slide on the rhythm like a river on rails Little bit of dirt in the gospel hum Halo crooked, but the job get done [Hook 2] Hold on, let me roll my J And baby could you pass me my coffee please? I’m that brown sugar concrete Hoarse voice, hurt joy, both on key You can hear where I’m from when I breathe that beat [Bridge – DJ breakdown] [Band drops to bass and snaps] Gravel in my laugh, satin in my runs (oh) Sinner when I talk, preacher when it’s sung Hayfield halo, ragtop roll Dirty little story with a diamond soul [Final Run – blended] Hold on, baby, stay on brand, watch for off-brands Brown sugar concrete in the Voice of LA Got that red clay soul in a northside street Let me roll my J, let me roll my J Every time you hit the room make your presence felt Make the back row holler when the hook repeat From the cornfield wind to the subway heat You can hear where I’m from when I breathe that beat (A hit dog gon' holler) (Bark!)

0/500