Gold Rolex
Bobby Sessions

BOBBY SESSIONS


Gold Rolex Lyrics (feat. Benny The Butcher & Freddie Gibbs)

[Intro: Bobby Sessions]
Bobby Sessions, yeah, hol' up
Yeah
Ayy

[Bobby Sessions]
Real recognize real, nigga, you aren't identified
Diamonds on my neck is proof that my dream crystallized
Talkin' shit, that's ill-advised, probably why my hater's sick
Saw the cake inside my bank increase because I made a wish
Saw the streets, not in the streets, all the streets embraced the kid
Cracker give me funny look 'cause I'm stayin' at the Ritz
Walkin' like a pimp with a cane and a limp
Mesmerize your bitch, she watch my dick swing to the left
Popped my trunk and then I dipped, uh, Donald Trump a bitch
Texas nigga, Pleasant Grove, you better know that I'm legit
Took the shackles off my soul, I never sold it for a cent
Now the wrist is full of gold, I hit the goal and now I'm rich, uh
Made some new ones
Kept this shit one hunnid, now it's paid up with the blue ones
I expose the system, take a look at how they do us
They wanna hate me, tell the world that I'm a nuisance
p*ssy nigga, do some, legend

[Break: Z-Ro]
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
[Verse 2: Benny The Butcher]
Yo, started with one eight ball and a fifty cent razor
A nigga still tryna catch up twenty bricks later, uh (Hahaha)
I just want my worth, is that too much?
Load my pistol 'fore I leave and my bitch wish me good luck
I stood up on each Ave (Uh-huh), collectin' this free cash
At least I thought it was, free Ab and free Cass (Free the real ones)
I hit once and she ask me to buy her a G-Wag' (What?)
And now she mad 'cause that p*ssy not worth a E-Class
Spent a hunnid in a day, we could make more, nigga
I'm out in St. Croix with in f*ckin' on Playboy bitches (Haha)
They wanna arrest us rappers and make more prisons (Why?)
'Cause seven figure bank accounts put cakes on niggas (Huh)
They wanna take me back, I can't let 'em, though
2021, I'm goin' up or goin' federal
I set the bar, nigga (I set the bar, nigga)
This Palm Angels jacket an extra large, mob shit
Before I start the engine, I check the car, Sopranos

[Break: Z-Ro & Freddie Gibbs]
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes (Yeah)
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate (Yeah)
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes (Yeah, bitch, yeah)
[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]
At night, I can't sleep (Nah), I toss and turn (For sure)
So I just jump in the 'vert, Dr. Dre, chronic gettin' burned (Skrrt)
I just put my side bitch on some Forgis, don't scrape the curb (Bitch)
Spot a opp', get the drop and dump ashes off in his urn (f*ck nigga, yeah)
Mr. Kane, pistol stay dirty but I got clean work (Yeah)
Once you bleed work, you a worker, you never seen work (Lil' p*ssy ass nigga)
Smokers in the back, start trap, they bought the Beamer
Load the Heron, Leon, Dion, I switch the league up (Shit)
Kane, hoe, you can't 'tain me with a kiss or a gold ring
Send her back to her husband, she just f*ckin' to maintain
I cannot be monogamous, these bitches be playin' games
Bitch, I rap for a hobby, I sell drugs to maintain, yeah (Maintain it, bitch)
And it's been that way (Yeah)
Put your money up and get your package sent that way (Yeah)
Turn 12 for a deal, white went that way (f*ck that nigga)
Left stain in the street when he got hit that day, bitch (Brrah, brrah, brrah, brrah)

[Outro: Z-Ro]
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes
Put on your seatbelt so the Laws won't hate
We takin' a trip to the bottoms where Mr. Hector bakes cakes

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Songwriter(s): Bobby Sessions, Benny The Butcher, Freddie Gibbs, AJRuinedMyRecord, JAY SCALEZ
Record Label(s): 2021 Def Jam Recordings, a division of UMG Recordings, Inc
Official lyrics by

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