lirik lagu yer a bum – p-pullz
p-pullz (ft. arjay mian, jorrell redsun, q-popi, and stelf index) ft. poison pen – “yer a bum”
[produced by stelf index]
[hook: p-pullz]
hands in the air like, “give me what you got”
-ss shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle
rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums
yer a bum, bum, bum. bah, yer a bum
[verse 1: arjay mian]
quick, fast, stash, stash. price last—never slash
priceless, might stress. bat bash, leave mess
who the h-ll is this? (what?). no recollection
take up collection to reconstruct face
run race, i’m carefree and sugarless
you never heard cab confession quite like this
hot nine, 7-eleven top earner
yer a bum. burn you bronx to brooklyn
[verse 2: poison pen]
yo, n.a. baracus brooklyn’s realest. bed stuy
we try your sh-t on before we steal it
n.a. rocker, slumped-over posture of chewbacca
we don’t recruit—take that stronghold application out your pocket
every female fan is potential p-ss
if they roll deep, then there’s more friends for us
the lifestyle at the “top of the food chain.” we come
over hung over with enough d-ck
to shift your shorty’s lung over. i don’t know
what i love more: hip hop or them locked-
-door strip spots, where hands-on experience is bad
me and jorrell ran up a tab
[verse 3: jorrell redsun]
the threads i wear make me look sharp
never be an old fart. i kick hind parts
sly fox trails, sailboat, fresh ox tails
know sh-t like an oxford student
tough mentadent. car crash meant to dent it
steel cadillac against fibergl-ss rented
hai karate, cologne scented. it works
and i’m a bum for life just like red alert
[hook: p-pullz] (x2)
hands in the air like, “give me what you got”
-ss shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle
rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums
yer a bum, bum, bum. bah, yer a bum
[verse 4: stelf index]
my very aura intimidates, make -ss shake
bounce the ground ‘til the world hurls. tip your gl-sses
cl-ss action. ladies take me like rations
high ratio of them will be back to back it up
i like backs stacked like, “what a bum, bum”
beat it like b.f.m. productions
wild, cause harm. pressure? stay calm
bare arms and the taste of your mouth on my palms
[verse 5: arjay mian]
wild herd of cattle trample like angry camel
for touching humps, brand you, p-ss obstacles
stop me? that’s impossible. yes, trying to hail
me down, i reign terror. you fail to change
i hit you in head with cash register. my buddies
give pounds, pull pound, eat pound cake
no mistake/miss take (what?) like lady thief
my name alone’ll make you soil your brief
i don’t need gun. just a stone to rock
basketball center wearing bulletproof vest. cannot block these shots
excursion in yellow expedition (yes) with
chick giving me turban (yes, thank you)
[hook: p-pullz] (x4)
hands in the air like, “give me what you got”
-ss shake with that wiggley, wiggley, wiggle
rich bum, poor bum, suburbs, city slums
yer a bum, bum, bum. bah, yer a bum
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