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Silver Surfer
MBox
,
917 Rackz
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
Bilingual
(Thank you, Timmy boy)
(Ryan, what took you so long?)
Vroom
Me and brodie in the fuckin' Beamer swimmin', bitch, I'm silver surfin'
You ain't fit to jump up in that ride, I heard you still rehearsin'
Any day and any time, bro get you hit for certain
Get paid for payback, the Maybach had came with silver curtains
This M5 that I be slidin', no, there ain't no competition
Trappin', cookin' up a bird and I be ridin' with the chicken
Swear to God, the opps remind me of the pistons
Smoke that goofy out the pound, go to his grave and take a pissin'
On 95, we hawk him down, and we start blickin'
She see the Bimmer and the Benzo and the bitch start takin' pictures
You wanna train on the Range, I'm on the Jackie doing tricks and shit
She give me spits in the back, so she doin' tricks and shit, Rackz
Ain't with the chit-chat, ten bands, I sip that
Ten lines, I skimp that, M5, I tint that
M8, I wrapped it, red pint was plastic
Redeye, I gassed it, fishtail, I crashed it
Bad VIN, I swapped it, black Benz, I bought it
Back ends, I caught it, back ends, I lost it
Bandemic baby, man, I kill for a variant
My plug smokes weed with no grabba, vegetarian
X7 M60, take up two lanes (two lanes)
Your man died last night, this a new strain
Blacked out M8 Competition, feel like Bruce Wayne
I'm a bolt to the money like I'm Usain
Shh, I'm on a crash course, X7 M60, fuck a task force
I just pulled up to the trap, what you ask for?
Cop said, "Pull over, put the keys on the dashboard"
I need some element, raw tips and some Bristol
I'm in a supercharged Durango, it's a fuckin' missile
Knocked in the city, you'll get five years for pistols
16 a pop, he needs a G-Pack of Dispo's
No check gang, I was born in the 4Matic
'Bout to go live in a Rolls with the gold Patek
Got on Gallery cargos with the Chrome jacket
Box boys shit, I got a tab with the whole planet
This M5 that I be slidin', no, there ain't no competition
Trappin', cookin' up a bird and I be ridin' with the chicken
Swear to God, the opps remind me of the pistons
Smoke that goofy out the pound, go to his grave and take a pissin'
On 95, we hawk him down, and we start blickin'
She see the Bimmer and the Benzo and the bitch start takin' pictures
You wanna train on the Range, I'm on the Jackie doing tricks and shit
She give me spits in the back, so she doin' tricks and shit, Rackz
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