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bub styles - vintage burgundies كلمات أغنية

[intro:]

he has perhaps one of the best palates that the world had seen in many many years. he could figure out how to find the bottles of other wines and bring them together to recreate the taste of the wine that doesn’t exist…

[verse 1: bub styles]

go!
i need the whole sh_t, short me a quarter zip by the five plates
that’s the bullsh_t, too much chips to fold sh_t
plus sheets and gold bricks lining my fortress
too much dirty money to earn my spot on the forbes list (f_ck it!)
i hear y’all chickens beaks cluckin’
but my chickеns necks need somethin’, diamonds in the bubblе geese stuntin’ (ooh!)
’96 jeeps skatin’ on you cowards 26 deep (smack!)
i clock triple the profit midweek
got those pipsqueaks
got a gold miner and he just looking through my t__th, shiny feets
every word out my mouth, grimy speech
y’all picked an untimely time to preach
left them not a nickel or a dime to reach (nothin’!)
dunny tried to link just cuz i co_signed his beats
honestly them sh_ts was barely hittin’, i was fine at peace (flawlessly!)
ain’t no honor you could buy the streets
grindin’ with greed just lead to lower profits, higher fees and slimy deeds (woo!)

[hook: bub styles]
blew the re_up on a time piece
divine speech is required on these side streets
then switch to vintage burgundies and lobster tails
448 gram exhales
i never speak, she say she know me well
bigger product, bigger clientele
smaller threats are smaller fish to fry
send that smoke up to the sky

[verse 2: xp the marxman]

listen, the taste makers know what we chefin’
we hold cookin’ lessons, they can feel the aura illuminate
when they in my presence
fam hold me down in a track
when are you coming back?
i had to pull it all out the stacks to run me up a back
mouthpiece talk the stripes off of a zebra
in the yucatan, puffin’ cohiba (uh_huh)
have a hustler’s demeanor
had to toss it after bustin’ a nina
ain’t no serial either, bought the visa, took a trip to ibiza
h_llish nights of fiend pipes and gram hustlers
out here on the west with the goons and spot rushers
they hate and l_st us
they can say it, but they ain’t lovers
it’s an art tryin’ to escape death
had many brushes, sucka duckin’
for half an onion, they gon’ smash your pumpkin
stay off them blocks if you ain’t poppin’ somethin’
we with the sh_ts and love it
yo, that’s the primo, but he ain’t my cousin
he hit the key while we was biz discussin’, whatever
[outro: bub styles]

blew the re_up on a time piece
divine speech is required on these side streets
then switch to vintage burgundies and lobster tails
448 gram exhales
i never speak, she say she know me well
bigger product, bigger clientele
smaller threats are smaller fish to fry
send that smoke up to the sky

- bub styles

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