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a-villa - the wild bunch كلمات الأغنية

[sample]
i got the wild style
always been a foul child
represent to the fullest

[verse 1: oh no]
yo a-villa we way illa
i’m like an uncaged gorilla, bananas peeled the k!lla
what my pen will tell ya, it ain’t penn & teller
the rain you will need rihanna’s umbrella
when it came it’s like a cyclone or a hurricane
the perfect storm to integrate, you a fish bait
i urinate all over your state, get it straight
i infiltrate from what i ill-strate, the illest traits
now watch me illuminate
across the globe ya’ll ready know
i turn into that gettysburg get a show
yall get it from the get-go
when my clique blow it’s like a fo-fo
ya’ll get low, hit the flo’, i’m high while i’m gettin’ dough
then i’ll take ya ho to penetrate the hole
thickest with the flow, can’t be touched with a 10 foot pole
no, you must not know who you f-ckin’ with
the last man standing, n-gga we run this sh-t
run ya sh-t
our city motherf-cker

i got that wild style, come f-ck around
and get layed down, by the foulest child i’ll spray ’em down

[sample]

[verse 2: roc marciano]
cut to the chase, bust up eighths amongst apes
b-ttf-ck your date ’til the rubber break
we duct-taped and oven-baked, covered in snakes
juggling weight where they blaze, f-ck a knuckle game
slugs bang buckle your frame left you underweight
i let my nuts hang in my dungarees
wanna-be g’s wish to be seen in these jeans
the emblem on the specs read d & g
k!llin’ defeat leave with a shiela e
tender like veal meat, you hold your steel weak
mothers still weep
i run up in freaks built like wildebeasts
k!ll beats, mcs are grease-filled grief
the day that you get k!lled we’ll feast
you feel at peace in a field of wheat
i l!ck steel out the silver jeep
feel the heat, let familiar eat
techs we’ll squeeze break your shield in three
just connect with me or you feel defeat
i tuck the chrome three bill degree

i got that wild style, come f-ck around
and get layed down, by the foulest child i’ll spray ’em down

[sample]

[verse 3: sean price]
the best mc duke, you know that’s i
sean price, mr. music, soul child and i
you ape, i rate best rapper in tri-state
the other 47 states know that my rhyme great
all real, ya’ll n-ggas is fake lord
i shake fake b-tch–ss rappers on skateboards
get the f-ck out my face fam
‘fore i put my foot in your -ss and f-ck up my sp-ce jams
shave grams to engrave the sp-ce
‘k blam, update your face
listen, n-gga the banger buck n-ggas
fornicating with guns when i finger-f-ck triggers
top five alive i k!ll ’em with one verse
twistin’ up your fingers, i k!ll you on son turf
p, i give a clepto ??
sket blow, death blow fam, where your candy at
i’m a maniac, f-cking braniac

- a villa

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