lirik lagu icicle drool – blvck svm
[blvck svm]
brick on my chest is keeping me cool
i get on the jet i feel like a mule
so many n*ggas been gassing me pilot been flying in circles to burn off the fuel
icicle drool because of how frozen the fronts
upgraded the metal it’s packing a punch
i f*ck up a bag i’m back in a month
dapper dan one of one i’m fiending for fashion
nitrous got my car dashing, h*lla reality stars in the ceiling
the windows are tinted so n*ggas are squinting to see ’bout my linens
the coogi is vintage the colors are vivid
i put on a pendant my sternum is livid
i’m selling my writtens, i done gave so many n*ggas a sentence i feel like a clinton
n*ggas been puffing extendo, foggin’ my frames and optical windows
got the versace imprint on the sandals, stuffing the cash in the walls like a bando
split ’em up quick with the kinfolk, sit up in the coupe with the 5p tint on the windows
similar color the skin doe, skeleton leather the digital dash it look like nintendo
big ap where the wrist go it got diagonal pointers like disco
i stay down like 10 toes, racks keep coming like nymphos, tenfold
they biting they draining my wallet
so i been infusing the cuban with garlic
i’m good with some people who slide if you spark it
like me in the booth they hitting they targets
flipping my game i never been stuck in my ways
use every bar it’s nothing to waste
blues in my jeans exposing my waist
the slithering snake to keep ’em in place
shorty a gamble, i’m in a gambling mood, she told me to come get a sample
that p*ssy tighter than iverson handle, feel like the wax around candle
don’t mean to ramble
[chow mane]
[?]
she just told me to do whatever i want, but she come back to me, ’cause i got [?]
got gas like the cops in hong kong
richard millie on my wrist, but this sh*t knocked off
she ‘gon still suck me off like it’s not
told me that she love me and i said “ha ha”
my life like a thriller, yo it’s like a rom*com
b*tch, i’m the one, you a wonton
sauce on me like a motherf*cking pasta
blond*haired b*tch lookin’ like a pop star
i’mma put some asian in her, now her name bruno mars
[?] money and a new goyard
then i put the d*ck in a b*tch [?]
pull up in the whip, i don’t need no card
i don’t even like the club, if i go, i’mma charge, look
f*ck all the basic sh*t, b*tch i’m an alien
smoking that omen, i think that i’m damien
pockets [?] green [?] blue on a gradient
f*ck on your lady friend
in a prius, no mercedes benz
call up my plug he’s named fabien
pick up the bag and take me to the cambrian
walk out the lab that my momma done made me in
jamie and henny make me feel amazing
icicle drool, from the jacket way down to the shoes
your b*tches done [?] with a brain no moo
suck my tofu while i watch roku
f*ck a save mart, b*tch i shop at whole foods, and my pockets like yours, ’cause they look so blue
said my flow nice, now my flow rude
they could put me in the game i don’t follow no rules
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