Words You Can't Pronounce ft. Wry Fawkes & Mr. Mellow Lyrics

Yo Wry, Wryster, yo

I touched down in Turks and Caicos

Yo man, hold up

Hola cabrones, escucha me

Alejate de mi playa ahora

Ahora

Hay idiotas aqui

Okay

Yeah

I'm just chillin' and relaxin'

Pinche gabacho

Yeah yeah

Was a travelin' man, unravelin' plans, slick

Scramblin' like dismantling bombs with toothpicks

World masticates your ass, laughs and spits

Swig of Neuf-du-Pap, dab your scraps with bread sticks

The bear could appear at any time, but those brackets

Break backs, I rewire scrilla to break rackets

So I land on Turks and cakes, sippin' McCoy

Eyes on that turqoise sea, textin' my pageboy

I'm a DeLonghi fiend, sun lifts its face

Screamin' in mine, thinkin' in time I'll play bass

Like Prince to MJ, laughin' like I caught a case

Can't erase a true player, can't chase a new vapor

While that real haze saturate air like Herc's prayer

Sittin' back feelin relaxed stackin' up loopholes

Time flows like kilobauds, while y'all prey hoes

I'm prayin' I can fit through divine the keyhole

Chilled Proseco rinsin' out my boca

Quicken my tongue like Ricky Roma on coca

Lips flappin' like there's a gun to my inseam

Ribbin' thoughts in places, spaces unseen

Sippin' on words that you can't pronounce

Thots soaked in gin and ready to pounce

Landed on the bad foot too bad to remount

But a player's a player and we'll never bounce

Watching birds at the bay

Poppin' jays

Kick my chucks up

Sippin' on bombay

Imma saucey boy

I keep time like an ex

gone postal

no biz if bifocal

West Coastal

Temperament like wet cement

On a climax

Hand print on fresh mint

Won't wanna buy back

Value increase

Like fine wine I'm a beast

I sip these beauties like tax brackets all been decreased

No desist no cease

Sample markets like supermarkets and cheese

I probably wouldn't care about which musicians to please

If I work

I got it

If I don't - who cares?

Like wafers

Delicatessen in layers

If your mouth don't water, the fodder didn't fire

Keep hittin' that sweet spot til the culture retires

If your mouth didn't water, the solder didn't wire

Keep hittin' that sweet spot til the culture retires

Chilled Proseco rinsin' out my boca

Quicken my tongue like Ricky Roma on coca

Lips flappin' like there's a gun to my inseam

Ribbin' thoughts in places, spaces unseen

Sippin' on words that you can't pronounce

Thots soaked in gin and ready to pounce

Landed on the bad foot too bad to remount

But a player's a player and we'll never bounce