Bambuu Unit - Two (D.A.V.E) [feat. Wry Fawkes & Mr. Mellow]

Words You Can't Pronounce (feat. Wry Fawkes & Mr. Mellow)

Yo Wry, Wryster, yo
I touched down in Turks and Caicos
yo man, hold up

Hola cabrones, escucha me
Alejate de mi playa ahora
Ahora
Hay idiotas aqui
Okay
Yeah
I'm just chillin' and relaxin'
Pinche gabacho
Yeah yeah

Was a travelin' man, unravelin' plans, slick
Scramblin' like dismantling bombs with toothpicks
World masticates your ass, laughs and spits
Swig of Neuf-du-Pap, dab your scraps with bread sticks
The bear could appear at any time, but those brackets
Break backs, I rewire scrilla to break rackets
So I land on Turks and cakes, sippin' McCoy
Eyes on that turqoise sea, textin' my pageboy
I'm a DeLonghi fiend, sun lifts its face
Screamin' in mine, thinkin' in time I'll play bass
Like Prince to MJ, laughin' like I caught a case
Can't erase a true player, can't chase a new vapor
While that real haze saturate air like Herc's prayer
Sittin' back feelin relaxed stackin' up loopholes
Time flows like kilobauds, while y'all prey hoes
I'm prayin' I can fit through divine the keyhole

Chilled Proseco rinsin' out my boca
Quicken my tongue like Ricky Roma on coca
Lips flappin' like there's a gun to my inseam
Ribbin' thoughts in places, spaces unseen
Sippin' on words that you can't pronounce
Thots soaked in gin and ready to pounce
Landed on the bad foot too bad to remount
But a player's a player and we'll never bounce

Watchin' birds at the bay poppin' Js
Kick my chucks up
Sippin' on Bombay, I'm a saucy boy
I keep time like a Nex gone postal
No biz and bifocal
West Coastal
Temperament like wet cement on a climax
Fresh mint you'll wanna buy back
Value increase, a fine line I'm a beast
I sip these beauties like tax brackets all been decreased
No desist no cease
Sample markets like supermarkets with cheese
Probably wouldn't care which musicians to please
If it work, I got it, if it don't, who cares
Like Wayfarers still contestin' the layers
If your mouth didn't water the fodder didn't fire
Keep hittin' that sweet spot til' the culture retires
If your mouth didn't water the solder didn't wire
Keep hittin' that sweet spot til' the culture retires

Chilled Proseco rinsin' out my boca
Quicken my tongue like Ricky Roma on coca
Lips flappin' like there's a gun to my inseam
Ribbin' thoughts in places, spaces unseen
Sippin' on words that you can't pronounce
Thots soaked in gin and ready to pounce
Landed on the bad foot too bad to remount
But a player's a player and we'll never bounce

Credits
Writer(s): Wry Fawkes, Mr. Mellow
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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