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infrared dot com - boldy james & nicholas craven lyrics

[intro]
where we at with it
ayy, look

[verse 1]
back of the maybach watching rick and morty, po’d up in a 60/40
biggest creature of the cons, long live sl!ck and corey
free lou, still trapping in the zone like a 3/2
arm and hammer mixing water whipping like a skidoo
‘za funky as pepé le pew, pu
it sucks to be you, one thing i hate is a mr. me too
a get you knocked off, no temu, stay on your a*game
just tryna stay sane like navy blue and pink siifu
the glock krazy glued to my waist’ll put ’em down quicker than pdq
can come and get a sneak preview
uptown with my new switchie in that q50
real bloodhound, never been a basset or a beagle
infected with the evils, connected with them peoples
still above ground, now drop down and get your eagle on
that’s infrared*dot*com, red in my bloodstream
head of a drug ring, i get my smeagol on

[chorus]
still in the ghetto with my zs screaming, “free ramone”
bust skyler like a sunflower full of vs stones
off of gratiot and van dyk*, i caught the drank from midnight
incoming call, i can’t answer this on no speaker phone
get all day for a swipe, watch what you speaking on
after money comes the respect then it brung power
in broad day get right, jump out just me alone
left him reeking of gunpowder mixed with cheap cologne
[verse 2]
i eat lightning and slap thunder with them eastsiders
putting n*ggas in the deep fryer, it’s the heat miser
spot hot as a grease fire, top side in the jeep visor
hood full of shot spotters, but, ain’t no ceasefire
i can’t pull over with these, bruno a three*timer
bricks so pearly never seen a set of t**th whiter
it’s game time, no sega, caught two pops at the omega
my new trap spot a bodega, my new b*tch rocking bottega
stuck on that block with no neighbors, we fed the whole family
did a quarter ticket on my cricket off the nose candy
told dani, “i need that gold lambi”
now the seats in the bm lemon pepper but the rolls sandy
need that new royal oak offshore for the ross tour
rose audemars piguet or patek, whatever cost more
my digimon a palm pilot, got ’em swan diving
whole pint of the tris just got wrote a ‘script for bronchitis

- boldy james nicholas craven lyrics

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