Roll (feat. Sean Kingston) (Feat. Sean Kingston)

Roll (feat. Sean Kingston) (Feat. Sean Kingston)

Sean Kingston

Gon' gamble with it, show me I'm da man (man)
Shake it on da flo', like dice pon' ya hand
Lemme see dat ass roll, roll, roll, roll, roll
They go!
It's Kingston and Flo Rida (Flo Rida)
Kingston and Flo Rida (Sean Kingston)
Kingston and Flo Rida (J.R. on the track, Poe Boy)
Kingston and Flo Rida (let's get it!)

[Chorus: x2]
Gon' gamble with it, show me I'm da man (man)
Shake it on da flo', like dice pon' ya hon
Lemme see dat ass roll, roll, roll, roll, roll
They go!

Hey
I could tha' man, that's if shawty understand it
Roll the police, when the fed a jock panic
Pull ova, Flo Rida can handle it
Gon' place ya bets, or we better yet a lan it
City to Vegas, God's to bust it babies
I stay on da tragic, your pretty pussy from Haden
Rappas tables invaded, great, watch it belated
Block paper, I make it so I been gamblin' lately
Yeah, we could play Casino
You can be my Ginger
Sam Rothstene, shawty, I supply the dealers
I gotta thank my no-go
Bumpin' of da game pit
Boss, ghetto boss, gon' show me I'm da man

[Chorus: x2]

Got money on the shoota am I talkin' 'bout the Ruger
The man that roulette click click I'm no loser
Gal you the shit, southern slang from manure
The bootsy connoisseur when I'm drankin' on Kalhua
Oh see this rose girl I won't try you with tulips
I'm pumpin' rose' are my chickens hot as hooters
I'm Mandalay Bay, the Bellagio abuser
My paper don't amuse ya then you haven't seen my muler
Hard rock hotel I need the pink flamingo
Gamble it female like ya hips is playin' Seelo,
Check out ya Chanel see, I stroke ya ego
Enough with the gazebo, pure cut yer use a kilo, blow

[Chorus: x2]

Seven eleven, then it go, call it no guessin'
Ain't naked but all these shawty's they lookin' at you dey treading
I reckon it' 'cause you high rollin' they beggin' you beggin'
Snake eyes while you collecting, then smiles while you investing
Thousand dollar chips for ya thousand dollar hips
Got these thousand dollar gifts need more thousand dollar tips
I'll be your supplier, spin it like a dryer
Roll for me baby be my Nascar tire
I know the odds of winnin'
Like I do off them linen
They gangsters proud of woman
I call it Robbin Gibbons
Flo rida extortion
Taking pictures of the Porsche's
Say look what you bottom bought ya
Now do what your mama taught ya

[Chorus: x2]

Written by JORDAN, SYLVESTER JR. / ROTEM, JONATHAN / DILLARD, TRAMAR / LANIER, CHRISTOPHER ALVIN
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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