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Wavvy (Prod. by Brenmar)
Mykki Blanco
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
I'm the motherfuckin rookie of the year
Mykki Blanco
Young Castro
We on that chill tip, real high
We feeling real loose, real fly
We on that chill tip, real high
We feelin real loose, real fly
Welcome to Hell bitches, this is Mykki Blanco
New World Order motherfucker, follow pronto
Get in line nigga
Your soul is mine nigga
You scaredy cat pussy motherfuckers can't deliver
Maybe she born with it, maybe it was Maybelline
All white Blanco give your heathen ass a christening
Niggas so greasy in the daylight, he glistening
"Oh this fag can rap" yeah they saying that they listening
Pissing in the wind
At the 4-a-m spot
Blazed off the indica
A bottle of Ciroc
A mouth full of pop
Chug it in the pay phone
1-800-LOCO
Mother fuckers y'all can go home
I'm the new Rufio
Y'all ain't know
I pimp slap you bitch niggas with my limp wrist, bro
What the fuck I gotta prove to a room full of dudes
Who ain't listening to my words cuz they staring at my shoes
We... we we make love to the night
In the back of the club yeah we feeling alright
L-lights lights low
This shit feel crazy
Low key loose niggas know
We getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy -- huh -- we getting wavvy
We on that chill tip, real high
We feeling real loose, real fly
We on that chill tip, real high
We feelin real loose, real fly
I bite I bite I bite the head off a harpy
Eat these bitches alive, no water
I cry blood tears, Holy Mary, Holy Mother
Somebody get the shaman motherfucker run for cover
Blanco Blanco Blanco say it three times, Candy Man
I'm coming outta the dark with red eyes and red hands
I scalp these haters with a sickle I'm a sling blade
I'm cut-throat bitch, I cut thot bitches keep away
Now many play me for dummy, not funny
Now a bitch about to get money, they wanna love me
Tell them no no no I played that Destiny's Child
Young hearts run free, young bloods run wild (heyyy)
Green light, with a mic in my hand
I go forward into battle with a dice in my hand
One chance, one woman, seeking the truth
One truth - veiled in the illusions of youth
We... we we make love to the night
In the back of the club yeah we feeling alright
L-lights lights low
This shit feel crazy
Low key loose niggas know
We getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy -- huh -- we getting wavvy
I'm bout to sour you niggas
Be that spitter shit I'm flexing all my power, my nigga
These no class trashy hood rap brat broads
Ain't got what it takes, put 'em back to training bras
Local mother fuckers, birds of a feather
If you's a dick rider you gon' dick ride forever
I said local mother fuckers, birds of a feather
If you's a dick rider you gon' dick ride forever, nigga
We... we we make love to the night
In the back of the club yeah we feeling alright
L-lights lights low
This shit feel crazy
Low key loose niggas know
We getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy -- huh -- we getting wavvy
We... we we make love to the night
In the back of the club yeah we feeling alright
L-lights lights low
This shit feel crazy
Low key loose niggas know
We getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy, getting wavvy, getting wavvy
We getting wavvy -- huh -- we getting wavvy
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