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aj tracey - bmf 2 lyrics
[intro: aj tracey]
nah, it’s cool, it’s cool
yo, listen, yo
[verse 1: aj tracey]
i’m like c (yep), wavy mode, you ain’t like me (no)
i heard the lighty ting likes me, i might call her up to come ride me
i got fly kicks, tai chi (trust), bi-s-x, she might be
when we touched her, she bite me, she looked prestige in that nightie
not a british gal but she like tea (uh), she said her ex is some hype g (long)
and now you’re sayin’ you wan’ fight me, but i’m skinny cuz, i don’t fight b
i go rent a ting and go light heat, law and order, iced tea
swag’s up, check the nike’s g, i got [?] jeans and a white t
i’ll buss true and i’ll make cake, dope chef (what?), milkshake
white tirocco (what?), bait shape, n-gg-s talk sh-t, better vacate
see, i’m good, they’re sh-t, i got bars, so they hate
i’m pure c-ke and they’re bait fake, [?] powder and [?] shake
hair’s wavey, shades windy, beat the track and that’s no jimmy
all your chicks all look so silly, my new b-tch looks so kimmie
sold [?], sold perry, buss the top of that old remy
ain’t got champs, then we pour henny, i’m so calm and you’re so kenny
[verse 2: santi]
like, hands on spinner, stinkin’ out the ringer
ricky rozay, yeah, i ride for my n-gg-s
puffin’ on the icky, went pressin’ on the trigger
mine and yours like, “yah, i want figures”
creepin’ for the cash, weed up in the bag
smokin’ the dope crazy but i’m already mad
bashed up a zobbie, smoke it in the flats
no money in my bank, yeah, i spend it on the trap
make more dough, i gotta spend more dough
you can talk about drill but you’re really not
about sittin’ in the flats, puffing, you can choke, on the phone
to a whole like you knew it’s gonna blow
on the staircase and i don’t really give a f-ck now
like, i’m gonna f-ck you, so i don’t give a f-ck
grabbin’ all the fat blunts, sippin’ through the ‘gnac’s done
and with the mad jezzy’s, so you know i’m gonna spazz cuz
[?] with the shisha, [?] latina
when he got a jezzy, he weren’t puffing on the reefa
i love white girls, so i’m rolling up with lisa
tellin’ me i’m naughty, lookin’ like a teacher
sh-t’s so cloudy, i didn’t even know
d-mn it, i choked, i smoked the whole o
been so wavey, you’d think i’m in a boat
now i can’t drive, but know i’m ghost
aura’s nuts, floating grub
tryna get paid, and promoting much
so i’m rollin’ around with loaded snub
and if i see a paigon i’m roastin’ mugs
certified bruddas will toast ’em punks
tints down low when i’m blowing skunk
don’t talk my name, i don’t know them punks
studio murder, i ain’t ghosting much
got looney out loud when i’m rolling up
everyone the side of this road’s too tough
yeah, i’m going in, i don’t boast too much
rather roll around and throw some grub
i ain’t throwing up, i might throw some slugs
if you don’t like me, i don’t care
i’m rollin’ round, gettin’ pounds out here
strikes in the booth for that rasta hair
jakes smell weed, but i don’t care
ghost from the set and they won’t know
silly little trappers don’t own no c-ke
in that coupé and i’m blowing smoke
i’m known anywhere, like coast to coast
rollin’ toke, blow some smoke
check the shoebox, got some crazy notes
like yeah, i got some crazy flow
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