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musty - icewear vezzo lyrics

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[intro]
(chromekrazy)
(iced up records)
(jay lapp, like talk to ’em)
ooh, huh

[verse 1]
tell that b*tch get off my d*ck, a million cash, i don’t like banks
diamonds hittin’, i get them dunked for a lil’ band, b*tch, i got rank
pressed the dog, eighty dollar grams, you know it’s fat when that sh*t stink
on the low, i done probably f*cked every lil’ bad b*tch down my way
i’ll stop flexin’ with all my pape’, this sh*t too much to flash cheap
cybertruck ride like a plane, in the wind, sh*t look like plastic screens
the hood been hot, i got some sh*t sittin’ in my trunk, whole bag of beans
red and purp’, all kinds of leans, dogsh*t in my lanvin jeans
why you countin’ that lil’ sh*t, dog? that ain’t no pape’, we millionaires
come to the tablе empty*handed, you in the way, go k!ll yoursеlf
went to the feds, it slowed me up, but i came home with still a mill’
hit the k like, f*ck the wrist, stuff a ho, i’m build*a*bear
i got vezzo, i got peezy, get the jeezy’s for the smurfs
paid the high for my g60s, doodie lo for all my percs
so much water on my wrist, could f*ck a ho until she squirt
ride the boat, made for the dirt, be on go when i’m off yerks
f*ck a rap check, unless it’s two m’s
real chicken, hibachi truck just like i’m moo and ’em
in b00by trap, i just throw up slips, i’m with lil’ kool and ’em
them bags are true, this b*tch like my crib, i’ll probably move in, n*gga (ooh)
[chorus]
huh, yeah (ooh), ran his b*tch out (b*tch out)
hmm, what? ran his b*tch out (ran his b*tch out)
phew, n*gga, we ran his b*tch out (yeah)
hmm, dog sh*t, we ran his b*tch out (ooh)
got that sh*t on me (what?), got that sh*t on me (what?)
got that sh*t on me (what?), n*gga, got that sh*t on me (ooh)
n*gga, got that sh*t on me (ooh), got that sh*t on me (ooh)
got that sh*t on me (ha), b*tch, got that sh*t on me (n*gga)

[verse 2]
let my nuts hand on the b*tch, i ain’t the two, ho, i’m the one
threw a tesla up at truffers, spent a coupe at golden sun
in the lambo’ gettin’ top, i drop the roof and she go dumb
i buy louis for my son, bought new toolies for lil’ cuz
every day, ho, i’m the sh*t, i been done pee*peed on a b*tch
drop the top and up my wrist, ho, i’m like jeezy on the 6
throwin’ parties ’cause i’m rich, i’m like keith b on the b*tch
diamonds 3d on my wrist, high as et off the tris
it was five m’s, now i’m up ten
in the h like what it do? i’m tryna f*ck meg
real demon, been done slapped some sh*t, get n*ggas tucked in
red demon, diamonds on it spinnin’, i got a dumb bag, n*gga

[chorus]
huh, yeah (ooh), ran his b*tch out (b*tch out)
hmm, what? ran his b*tch out (ran his b*tch out)
phew, n*gga, we ran his b*tch out (yeah)
hmm, dog sh*t, we ran his b*tch out (ooh)
got that sh*t on me (what?), got that sh*t on me (what?)
got that sh*t on me (what?), n*gga, got that sh*t on me (ooh)
n*gga, got that sh*t on me (ooh), got that sh*t on me (ooh)
got that sh*t on me (ha), b*tch, got that sh*t on me (n*gga)

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