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icky woods - alex wiley lyrics

[verse 1 – alex wiley]
i came through with the weed
eighth in the wood
my n-ggas was fried
my hoes, they do drugs
my n-ggas is thugs
all my villagers ride
getting paper
now the b-tches say he full of surprises
and they thinkin’ it’s time
to go and drop a ?
on thirty sl-ts and thirty doves
to fly on my arrival
you n-ggas pressed, you n-ggas pressed the squad eatin falafels
the book of my life is gonna outsell the bible
i do this sh-t with my eyes closed
my d-ck is f-cking colossal
caught me f-ckin’ a fossil
n-ggas talkin’ that tough sh-t
n-ggas so f-ckin’ docile
all my sessions is closed
like standin’ eatin’ in the kitchen
i’m standing next to the stove
and through all the pressure to fold
my necklace is gold, my necklace is gold
i take this city with me, baby
i’m reppin’ the ‘go
so i don’t give a motherf-ck about it
i’m a motherf-cking problem
and your hoes’ got the mileage of a 74

[verse 2 – action bronson]
i know these haters wanna see me fall
but my mama wanna see me ball
and your shorty wanna see my b-lls
and all these b-tches wanna see my money
but they can’t get sh-t from me
you know who you f-ckin’ blowing
f-ck you, straight up
chi town, we out here
it’s the consistency of cold honey
i’m spending old money
snap my fingers, drugs are sold for me
wink my eye, then a human dies
while i’m dancin’ to some cuban vibes
ladies think i’m handsome and the shoes are fly
d-mn, tell a baby, grab your ankles
’bout to smash your p-ssy like your man play for the bengals
ickey woods, ickey shuffle in the 740
uncle pauly right behind us in the 850
this sh-t fly strange like a r-t-rded duck
you get carted off
then i’m dippin’ like some garlic sauce
pimpin’ koala soft
vomit on the porsche
spent a wallet on the loft
green olives in the joint
the drugs make me smarter as i use them
i mean abuse them
i ain’t the one for all the choosin’
i see them, then i do
then i’m going to the movies
and then a beamer that i’m cruisin’
serve white b-lls, autograph by todd hundley
i need lebron money
straight notes like fingers on the guitar money
splash the bread with the zahtar, dummy
f-ck
two times
i’m like the motherf-cking mary lou retten of this sh-t
bam, bam, bronselino
queens
chicago
closed sessions
blow me from the back, b-tch

- alex wiley lyrics

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