the wire - lando bando lyrics
[intro]
(damjonboi)
(it’s lando, your b*tch know, don’t let your b*tch go, n*gga)
[chorus: prince jefe & babytron]
broke up with my b*tch, i’m cookin’ zips, can get another one
i’m workin’ my shoulder and my wrist to scr*pe a hundred*plus
catch a n*gga lackin’, up my bl!ck and drop a honey bun
why you sittin’ with your hands out? go get some money, bum
sh*t, it’s time to throw the wires on the wire
fishtailin’ in pirellis, you see fire on the tires
up the score, we in the finals, slam a b*tch, but don’t do titles
akhi too precise with rifles, now your mans need a revival
[verse 1: prince jefe]
no interruption, i’m in here makin’ a brick
he ain’t die, but he paralyzed, we made that boy a crip
but don’t ask me who i’m with, we slide right past and lеt it hit
i got fiends chasin’ the dragon, this new dopе right here the sh*t
h*ll nah, i don’t got no plan on savin’ these hoes
put the pole on his old*ass unc’, what you on?
n*gga rappin’ like he sellin’ bricks, i think he lyin’ though
i hit your town a thousand eight degrees and ball like lonzo
[verse 2: babytron]
cuddy, he ain’t got no rap career, he slap yola (brrt)
we don’t pass ‘woods, but you might see us match sodas
i might pull up, shoot a movie like i’m fat sosa
how you call yourself a sipper? never had an act’ coma (rookie)
sh*t, trx or shelbys, we don’t do tacomas
kitchen like a cafeteria, it got a food aroma (woo)
california king, i used to have to do the sofa (man)
yohji yamamotos, used to do the red monkeys
[verse 3: prince jefe & babytron]
put the strap in his mouth, i thought he said somethin’
i hit your town and burn it down, i think the feds comin’
ain’t no burberry at the ‘set, i might check london
no, for real, grab my passport like, “when the jet comin’?”
boy, you jeffin’, you ain’t never had a quarter*ticket
you would punt it, sh*t, i’m goin’ for it, fourth and inches
purgin’ in the h*llcat, but i’m rockin’ christians
tesla thing so fast, could give the cops a ticket
[chorus: prince jefe & babytron]
broke up with my b*tch, i’m cookin’ zips, can get another one
i’m workin’ my shoulder and my wrist to scr*pe a hundred*plus
catch a n*gga lackin’, up my bl!ck and drop a honey bun
why you sittin’ with your hands out? go get some money, bum
sh*t, it’s time to throw the wires on the wire
fishtailin’ in pirellis, you see fire on the tires
up the score, we in the finals, slam a b*tch but don’t do titles
akhi too precise with rifles, now your mans need a revival
[verse 4: prince jefe]
ever seen a n*gga beat the triple*cross?
i done did too much in nana kitchen, time to switch to fraud
hop out, make you catch these b*tches just like randy moss
i even put dior all on my mistress, they all gettin’ bought
i got clientele, i’m not tryna talk
i’m boxin’ with the dog, tryna duck a charge
[verse 5: babytron]
sh*t, i got eighty on my bezel, i can’t tuck my arms
treat my jewelry like my opps’ tops, i just bust my charms
legs numb off her head, face numb off the red
i been dolo since young tron, was taken off my pegs
if you don’t duck your enchilada, be done lost the dreads
they could have my mama held for ransom, wouldn’t talk to feds
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