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hml - vantablacsol lyrics

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[verse 1: bruce bayne]

got a new phone no more nude pictures

my snapchat game all rude with it

my versus gone i need new writtens

iphone dead that’s good riddance

got rid of it through with it through it in the street on some gangster sh-t

no case and sh-t i’m living dangerous

think my database got date raped

i’m a day late from paying my bill hope the call won’t drop

i came up on an upgrade never been upstate or upstaged

in a cage match with a cupcake customer sticking it to a sus n-gga

don’t call my phone on private i’m styling like palmpilots

i’m in the pool hall pool palacing and the palestinian who calls calls on vonage

my homage only coming with homicides

on airplane mode hope mohammed will compromise

b-tch i’m selling cracked iphones ,b-tch i’m on your map time zones

b-tch i know you that well you don’t have to act all different

got a new number get a contact high though

and that long distance phone call comes with extensions

[verse 2: bruce bayne]

hit my line i got that flame

where you at the whole city behind us like a talk show

in the cut like a blade

i wanted a razors so bad just like a kid that wants to shave

i was too young touché. but nowadays the youth got blue tooth like too much kool-aid

the truth got through but now it’s on hold

you can die alone from a long dial tone

replaced by a clone better watch your tone and what you say on the phone nsa might know

you know they drop drones. i just drop dome. and the knowledge of the tech savagery in your home

got trees in my home so my phone tapped like its touch screen won’t let it slide need a code

k!ller on the roam be sure lock your homes or call sherlock holmes and hope the clock wrong

no nokia i could keep a samsung and the same sam cooke song plays as my ring tone

might call my ex for the f-ck of it

act like its a b-tt dial better get some b-tt from it

started with a brick though now i flip birds i had flappy bird on the flip phone

if you were my kinfolk i wouldn’t let you in the plan

y’all n-ggas sound like you talking threw cans

tracking my trap phone from surveillance vans

on the contrary i don’t have contraband

i just come from chicago where we kinda go ham
and i’m calling from a landline where land mines land

need sp-ce to land satellite dish is a satellite jam

this is a sp-ce jam. that android will turn you to an android fam

- vantablacsol lyrics

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