BROCKHAMPTON - St. Percy Lyrics

Get the lyrics to the song: St. Percy by BROCKHAMPTON at LyricsKeeper.com.
St. Percy

St. Percy Lyrics |
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What Are The Lyrics For St. Percy By BROCKHAMPTON?
I'm the same one you seen in the classroom, ay
We was chillin' in the stall makin' crowds move, ay Young K still posted in the A like a Brave No chain, ya boys got what make my neck fuckin' bang Hanging on your speaker, banging on your speaker, baby Need to find the reason to make you believe me, baby Young Nolan, Playstation, controlling Send 'em just to get 'em, I hit 'em when it is over Roll over your soldier, no coaster I told ya I'm back whenever the storm is over Send it back if them boys wanna feel the clover No closure, never reply to faux orders My nigga sold sculpture, such a short quota Police pull up on me, boy, I kept that cold shoulder Cop runneth over for a hunnid orders All I got is pennies, still want me to fuckin' flow, bruh There is no love in the ghetto Money, money, we are just getting get go There is no love in the ghetto Money, money, we are just getting get go Ooh-oh-ooh, oh, oh How you do that right there, boo? I'm bamboozled, yeah Legs go up behind the head like leopard ambushin', huh Give her space, big ol' drop, call it Grand Canyon, huh She bust back, blow a fuse out the damn cannon Circus ol', okay, Rolie Polie, slide that, pole, yeah, low blow Not seen like a dodo (no), I skip fall, stay snow globe Stuck inside the corridor, make me go so loco Major League, I'm Sheen (uh), call me Wild Thing (uh) She got strings all up the neck, just like a violin I crave that chada-ching, when that venom sting Eyes turn redder than a motherfuckin' cherry stem Run up a check, mhh, ahh, hit 'til I miss, ayy, uh And they keep on hittin', my niggas ain't quitting, they way too legit, mhh, ahh Don't get on my list, mhh, ahh, I'm from the abyss, mhh, ahh You saying you real But I watch how you act and I can't be convinced, mhh, ahh Smokin' 'em out like a habit, you know we could make it tragic Money had never made nigga, we holdin' all our money in the mattress Fire rapid like a savage, taste is way above your palate No, I ain't for burying the hatchet Take a break to pick apart the balance of this madness You got big boy money like you ready for war You be talkin' like you really gon' run that though You be runnin' like the snot drainin' in from your nose That's that ice cream sugar, that cocaine throat And this shit gon' bounce like my shin off your dome And you know these boys deep, we ain't fittin' in the door And my dogs they bark, Michael Vick on fours Boy this shit long gone, why you hit my phone? See how real it is, homie See how real it is, huh? (hell no) Murder man, murder man Someone better hold me before this shit ugly Murder man, murder man Someone better Murder man, murder man Someone better Murder man, man Someone hold me, shit gets out Murder man, murder man Someone better hold me before this shit gets ugly |
Who Wrote St. Percy By BROCKHAMPTON?
Donovan Knighton, Christopher Dooley, Ciaran Mcdonald, Dominique Simpson, Ian Simpson, Jabari Manwarring, Matthew Garrett Champion, Romil Hemnani, William Anku Kraka Mawuli Ando Wood
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