COLORS

[Chorus: Remble]

Don't even think about it, bro, just keep going

Let 'em find out who it was, they gon' be on you

You don't got your phone with you and the whip stolen

If the boys hear about this one, you know who told 'em (Damn)

You don't have to pass the weed, I am not smoking

I'm like Rocket off of Colors, I am not joking

I told ol' boy, "Don't take the burner if you not blowing" (Laudiano)

I seen you post your dead homie, then I kept scrolling

I guess you subbed me on the 'Gram until it got boring

You always post your homie's blicky, that is not yours

Remember plug ran out of Glockies, then I bought Taurus

My chest was poking out the shirt, I felt like Chuck Norris

[Verse 1: Remble]

Remember hoppin' out with—, tuh, feeling fantastic

I tried to get to him faster, but it was bad traffic

Ran back to the whip out of breath like I was an asthmatic

He was stretched out on the ground with his arms crossed like the Black Panther

Free them ****, them other guys, really can't stand 'em

If they don't want any trouble, they better sit down then

Like, go and get you a trophy when you go down there

Free Cowboy, free Breezy, man, free the grandkids

If you gon' drive your whip, take off the plates

If you didn't pass for twenty or better, that's not a safe

My big homie in his fifties, I witnessed him hit a gate

We spin again and spin again and spin again until we can't

[Chorus: Remble]

Don't even think about it, bro, just keep going

Let 'em find out who it was, they gon' be on you

You don't got your phone with you and the whip stolen

If the boys hear about this one, you know who told 'em (Damn)

You don't have to pass the weed, I am not smoking

I'm like Rocket off of Colors, I am not joking

I told ol' boy, "Don't take the burner if you not blowing"

I seen you post your dead homie, then I kept scrolling

I guess you subbed me on the 'Gram until it got boring

You always post your homie's blicky, that is not yours

Remember plug ran out of Glockies, then I bought Taurus

My chest was poking out the shirt, I felt like Chuck Norris

[Verse 2: Stoneda5th]

We don't care about they side, they homies in coffins

He felt the bullets hit his body, but he just kept joggin'

Ride 'round with R3, think he known for crashin' foreigns

You gotta come to the pitch, try to get your name cleared

Don't want the kids to see you get right, take 'em to daycare

Seen his momma when we slid, and we did not care

He kept on trollin' on the 'Gram, that got his ass killed

That nigga trippin', turn you evil when you in the field

God on my shoulder, but the Devil tryna interfere

I heard they caught him out of state, thought he was in the clear

I had to bring it in the club, 'cause my life can't be shortened

I don't gotta pass my gun, we gon' keep scorin'

All they friends keep on dyin', they tears keep pourin'

PJ walked him, went out of the pints, so we gon' keep pourin'

Only talkin' 'bout the money, everything else, I'm ignorin'

I'll slide all myself, I don't care who not goin'

[Chorus: Remble]

Don't even think about it, bro, just keep going

Let 'em find out who it was, they gon' be on you

You don't got your phone with you and the whip stolen

If the boys hear about this one, you know who told 'em (Damn)

You don't have to pass the weed, I am not smoking

I'm like Rocket off of Colors, I am not joking

I told ol' boy, "Don't take the burner if you not blowing"

I seen you post your dead homie, then I kept scrolling

I guess you subbed me on the 'Gram until it got boring

You always post your homie's blicky, that is not yours

Remember plug ran out of Glockies, then I bought Taurus

My chest was poking out the shirt, I felt like Chuck Norris

[Verse 3: Mozzy]

Yeah, jump out, I'll disload on your bitch ass

Gang'll never see parole 'cause your snitch ass

Two-tone F&N, think that ho mismatch

Don't want no credit for that body, though, we did that

I just popped a half a oozer, lil' bro sober

If you freeze up on the skit, you get a cold shoulder

'Sace briefs for the yeekie, I need no holster

This a nookie throwaway, but I'm the fourth owner

Put your partner in that zimmy for the dope smokers

Poppin' bottles on my story, mean he's no longer

Try and tag me on the 'Gram if he ain't toe-taggin'

Since my brother passed away, we give no passes

Get away with snatchin' chains when you soul-snatchin'

Your big homie ain't no felon, he's a coc' addict

They keep catchin' me with ratchets, I do no lackin'

So it's fuck Bobby Hodges and Danny McGavin

[Chorus: Remble]

Don't even think about it, bro, just keep going

Let 'em find out who it was, they gon' be on you

You don't got your phone with you and the whip stolen

If the boys hear about this one, you know who told 'em (Damn)

You don't have to pass the weed, I am not smoking

I'm like Rocket off of Colors, I am not joking

I told ol' boy, "Don't take the burner if you not blowing"

I seen you post your dead homie, then I kept scrolling

I guess you subbed me on the 'Gram until it got boring

You always post your homie's blicky, that is not yours

Remember plug ran out of Glockies, then I bought Taurus

My chest was poking out the shirt, I felt like Chuck Norris