King Combs Young Roman E Lyrics
Young Roman$e by King Combs
[Verse 1: King Combs]
Yeah, lay up
You the one with me when I wake up
Motivate the boy to get his cake up
Ask who the toughest out, they gon' say us
So lit, you the one I wanna roll with
And what you ask for, what you gon' get
We can chill in the hills or the cockpit
You can take all my whips like the drop six
Ass fat, can't forget about her waistline
Out of town, always hit me on the FaceTime
Understand I be out here on the late grind
Anytime I hit her line, we don't take time
ASAP, hit me back like, "Where you at?"
Even tie the durag or the wave cap
Bad bitch, other niggas can't trace that
Fuck with me, have a crib where your wrist at
[Chorus: King Combs]
I could put you in the mansion, romancin'
Girl you look so fancy, wrist dancin'
Got a nigga feelin' antsy, don't let the fans see
I wanna take you to the Hamptons when we leave the Grammys
And we get swagged and we roll, yeah
I get bags for a show and
I pop tags in the store, yeah
We the ones and they know it
[Verse 2: Smooky MarGielaa]
Tell her quit with the games, I ain't with all these convos
Hard speakin' on my name everywhere you go
Said you'd keep your love with you, and you wanna let everyone know
Oh, I don't wanna get all these haters involved
Drop-top new coupes, scoop you up in Lambo (Tick)
I forget it, but that nigga swear he the shit
Remember times I was broke, me and you went to hit that lick
I almost got caught up but you took that shit
Get money every day and I spend it on brand new drip
I'm gucci top to bottom, diamonds walk like this
Diamonds on my neck, no light, and they still gon' glist'
Better stop playin' 'round 'fore I get a new bitch
Yeah, better stop playin' 'round while you drippin' on shit
A young wild nigga ridin' 'round, breakin' shit
Young bad-ass boy, they think you wicked after this
[Chorus: King Combs]
I could put you in the mansion, romancin'
Girl you look so fancy, wrist dancin'
Got a nigga feelin' antsy, don't let the fans see
I wanna take you to the Hamptons when we leave the Grammys
And we get swagged and we roll, yeah
I get bags for a show and
I pop tags in the store, yeah
We the ones and they know it
Yeah, lay up
You the one with me when I wake up
Motivate the boy to get his cake up
Ask who the toughest out, they gon' say us
So lit, you the one I wanna roll with
And what you ask for, what you gon' get
We can chill in the hills or the cockpit
You can take all my whips like the drop six
Ass fat, can't forget about her waistline
Out of town, always hit me on the FaceTime
Understand I be out here on the late grind
Anytime I hit her line, we don't take time
ASAP, hit me back like, "Where you at?"
Even tie the durag or the wave cap
Bad bitch, other niggas can't trace that
Fuck with me, have a crib where your wrist at
[Chorus: King Combs]
I could put you in the mansion, romancin'
Girl you look so fancy, wrist dancin'
Got a nigga feelin' antsy, don't let the fans see
I wanna take you to the Hamptons when we leave the Grammys
And we get swagged and we roll, yeah
I get bags for a show and
I pop tags in the store, yeah
We the ones and they know it
[Verse 2: Smooky MarGielaa]
Tell her quit with the games, I ain't with all these convos
Hard speakin' on my name everywhere you go
Said you'd keep your love with you, and you wanna let everyone know
Oh, I don't wanna get all these haters involved
Drop-top new coupes, scoop you up in Lambo (Tick)
I forget it, but that nigga swear he the shit
Remember times I was broke, me and you went to hit that lick
I almost got caught up but you took that shit
Get money every day and I spend it on brand new drip
I'm gucci top to bottom, diamonds walk like this
Diamonds on my neck, no light, and they still gon' glist'
Better stop playin' 'round 'fore I get a new bitch
Yeah, better stop playin' 'round while you drippin' on shit
A young wild nigga ridin' 'round, breakin' shit
Young bad-ass boy, they think you wicked after this
[Chorus: King Combs]
I could put you in the mansion, romancin'
Girl you look so fancy, wrist dancin'
Got a nigga feelin' antsy, don't let the fans see
I wanna take you to the Hamptons when we leave the Grammys
And we get swagged and we roll, yeah
I get bags for a show and
I pop tags in the store, yeah
We the ones and they know it