Lyrics Winter Time Rules - Dark Lo , V Don

Hurry up and pull off, don't warm your car
Winter time rules, if you're goin' to war
Them tell you, "All hail", ain't no stoppin' the war
In other words, don't be slippin', I'm on top of the war
I'm the GOAT, grab the quarter from on top of the board
No leg shots, they went on top of the ball
I wish you were comin', ain't no lock on my door
And I got a bankroll, next to the socks in my drawer

Stay up in your places, I drop an album, I was being gracious
Watch his hands and wait sis, free and, he stood tall, fightin' murder cases
Charlotte ain't come home, I still ain't seen (I ain't seen 'em)
Shooters blocked for week, I had to make a statement
Touched down in your city, and I ain't make no payments
Salute to the G's that put you on the pavement
I let Papi have the block, but every week he pay rent

I'm reminiscin' where my days went, in the cage I went
They say the law up here
Anytime a body drop, they wanna call me in
Fuck these bitches, y'all gotta watch who you call a friend
I'm a gun in these streets, I want the bottle again
These niggas rockin' jewelry from the mall again
I told her put this, in a cardigan
And tell young'in don't shoot it up, until I call it in

Hurry up and pull off, don't warm your car
Winter time rules, if you're goin' to war
Them tell you, "All hail", ain't no stoppin' the war
In other words, don't be slippin', I'm on top of the war
I'm the GOAT, grab the quarter from on top of the board
No leg shots, they went on top of the ball
I wish you were comin', ain't no lock on my door
And I got a bankroll next to the socks in my drawer

Go on, reinvent yourself, I'm ridin' through Philadelph
I'm strapped, I ain't wearin' no belt
I'm back, I ain't need no help
I need a Carter, I know how Nino felt
They're swimmin' like Michael Phelps, I know how Apaca felt
Twenty-one-one, gun-gun
Damn y'all niggas eatin' good, spare a crumb-crumb
Do it for your hood, that's where you're from-from
That's why the wolves on your ass, here they come-come

Got your fair of rapper's problems
Smack a rapper, won't rap about him
Make up some rap about him
Bell came through, unwrap the bottom
Money comin' through, I ain't have to rob 'em
Youngin top of the class, I ain't have to guide him
Put him on your homie ass, you gon' read about him

Stop this facial shell talk, they turn to red-bottoms
I just talk to folks, next day the feds got 'em
All black, black guns, ridin' through Gotham
I'm movin' like a ball, who the fuck gon' stop 'em
Hang him from his neck, we gon' hella cop them
I up sharp and I told youngin', go ahead and cop 'em
I'm the calculater, who won the problem?
Who gon' survive 'em, who want your album?
Your head on the pillow, that'll be your outcome
Your mom all screamin' and askin', "God, how come?"

Hurry up and pull off, don't warm your car
Winter time rules, if you're goin' to war
Them tell you, "All hail", ain't no stoppin' the war
In other words, don't be slippin', I'm on top of the war
I'm the GOAT, grab the quarter from on top of the board
No leg shots, they went on top of the ball
I wish you were comin', ain't no lock on my door
And I got a bankroll next to the socks in my drawer