Released: March 30, 2018
Featuring: Action Bronson
Songwriter: Harry Fraud Action Bronson Meyhem Lauren
Producer: Harry Fraud
[Intro: Meyhem Lauren]
Yeah...
(La musica de Harry Fraud)
[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren]
Smack lames, Versace frames cover my iris
Stay alert, never show my eyelids
I'm the livest
Provide bliss in baggies
Pushing 5 wagons and Caddies
See them banging chicks with fatties
We them bitches baby daddies
Probably, maybe
Oh shit, it could be possible
Y'all niggas couldn't see me
I'm a young optical obstacle
Gorilla bread, moving like a beast
Looking phenomenal
Hit 'em in they face with brakes, if not splash the abdominal
You might have seen me in a cardigan rocking a monocle
Grease my feet and leave the murder scene with every follicle
Diabolical
The drink is spiked with something soluble
Keep it hood, y'all niggas talking good
But then we follow through
Think about it
My niggas'll follow you then hollow you
That's word to what I rep
So show respect to what the dollar do
Hear us rhyme and see us shine
And then you'll see it's true
You faggots blew a tranny and you never owned a vehicle
Word...
[Bridge: Action Bronson]
(*coughs*) Yeah, I'm a fucking laid-back guy, man
I don't know why everybody wants to fucking have a problem
Guess when you going places man
You know how that go
[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
Yo, yo
Chopping wood, sweater smelling like the fireplace
Look in a mirror, see a lion's face
Whip spicy like a Cayenne
You ain't tryna get this money, motherfucker
Well I am
Bitches from Thailand
Get turned to moo goo gai pan
Pumping voodoo, drinking Yoohoo
Shawty put the poodle when she doo-doo
You motherfuckers acting new-new
Put you in a tutu
Nobody even recognize the new you
Yeah, cut your dick, made a pussy with it
Bitch, I'm Ronnie Coleman, you a rookie with it
Queens to Brooklyn, shit it
Glenfiddich, neat
Or rather unique down to my feet
Linen shorts, set brown, stop right at the kneecap
I love this, but I don't need rap
Yo fuck your feedback
And suck my dick to the haters
That's why I whip the 5 wagon
Gators all flavors, bitch
Yeah...
(La musica de Harry Fraud)
[Verse 1: Meyhem Lauren]
Smack lames, Versace frames cover my iris
Stay alert, never show my eyelids
I'm the livest
Provide bliss in baggies
Pushing 5 wagons and Caddies
See them banging chicks with fatties
We them bitches baby daddies
Probably, maybe
Oh shit, it could be possible
Y'all niggas couldn't see me
I'm a young optical obstacle
Gorilla bread, moving like a beast
Looking phenomenal
Hit 'em in they face with brakes, if not splash the abdominal
You might have seen me in a cardigan rocking a monocle
Grease my feet and leave the murder scene with every follicle
Diabolical
The drink is spiked with something soluble
Keep it hood, y'all niggas talking good
But then we follow through
Think about it
My niggas'll follow you then hollow you
That's word to what I rep
So show respect to what the dollar do
Hear us rhyme and see us shine
And then you'll see it's true
You faggots blew a tranny and you never owned a vehicle
Word...
[Bridge: Action Bronson]
(*coughs*) Yeah, I'm a fucking laid-back guy, man
I don't know why everybody wants to fucking have a problem
Guess when you going places man
You know how that go
[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
Yo, yo
Chopping wood, sweater smelling like the fireplace
Look in a mirror, see a lion's face
Whip spicy like a Cayenne
You ain't tryna get this money, motherfucker
Well I am
Bitches from Thailand
Get turned to moo goo gai pan
Pumping voodoo, drinking Yoohoo
Shawty put the poodle when she doo-doo
You motherfuckers acting new-new
Put you in a tutu
Nobody even recognize the new you
Yeah, cut your dick, made a pussy with it
Bitch, I'm Ronnie Coleman, you a rookie with it
Queens to Brooklyn, shit it
Glenfiddich, neat
Or rather unique down to my feet
Linen shorts, set brown, stop right at the kneecap
I love this, but I don't need rap
Yo fuck your feedback
And suck my dick to the haters
That's why I whip the 5 wagon
Gators all flavors, bitch