Yeah We gon' show a nigga how blackout is supposed to feel
I kick a bwoy face off like we playin' soccer I got that white you can call it Cyndi Lauper I hope you don't front [?] meet your baby mother I fuck your bitch more than you, yuh a baby father My passport pregnant, niggas call me globe trotter Fresh dip, nigga stay in Dolce & Gabbana See every time mi do it, yes, mi haffi do it proper And when me in di buidling, bitch, you know it doh matta, matta, matta Yeah, wid a whole heap a shotta Wid a whole heap a Glock and di whole a dem a choppa Bow, bow, bow, shots fly, Waka Flocka I oversee my bread, my bitches count my every dollar
Yeah, man ah god to a demon That, we can agree on Pledge your allegiance to better not involve me Word to every diamond in my Jesus piece Serious, re-re-real, head banger be a suicide bummer Like it's a spell, we ah spend we whole life on that S'body kill fi di flex, S'bdoy die fi di banner Somebody try kill somebody, then somebody gun jam up Now somebody cyan stand up Woi! Walk on it! Talk and get done up Badmind dem backbite and plan up Wi nuh tek bad up That mathematics don't add up Yeah, they call me Burna Boy, but I'm a full grown adult No sign of weakness!
Riding with tree man in a Benz like Spragga Come fi melt dung yuh whole block wid di lava Open yuh mouth, yuh flesh coming like piranha Bullet lick yuh dung and mek yuh drop inna di water Likkle yute, have manners when you walk up to yuh father Mi and Burna, come fi kill yuh wid a scorcha Free Kartel before di man turn into martyr Wi come fi fuck up everyting, yuh know di orderTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
