Bron n Luka Lyrics

Ayy, ayy, Sandow, bitch

I can set a shop in any state, yeah

I can set a shop in any state, uh

Bad bitch on me, I ain't even spend no pape

Bad bitch on me, I ain't had to spend no pay

Just spent five bands for the fuckin' frames

Yeah, these bitch Cardi D's ain't no regular frames, uh

And that bitch ain't have no passion

But I break her down

And I had to pass it to the broads

Ayy, you niggas cheap as hell

Yeah, you niggas coppin' bugs

Bitch, I'm coppin' peas for the cheese, uh

Ayy, got that Glock

And that bitch spittin, uh

Got that Glock in offense

And you tell the spitter, uh

And that bitch, she ride my dick like a trike

And I'm runnin' three bands like I'm Mike

Ayy, ayy, he could pay the fee

Hop up on his head, I could be trappin' for the tree

I could hop out with the hoe, I got the cane, what you need

Ayy, I hop out, pay the fee

Or I could do your ass on feet

I could do your ass on feet

Late night, broad day, with the pipe

I be sprayin' on sight, ain't no cap

But if the peoples ask, this shit a

Mmm, ayy, ayy, ayy, bitch, ayy

All y'all bitches, y'all straight actin

And when I pop out, clap, and y'all get dunkin' in the traction

Hop out on that bitch, I could leave you on the pavement

Cause if I don't get my pavement

Get your brain sent, brain splat

Get you on the wall, one call, too tall

No, we got the glicky ball, ha, ha

No, we got the glicky ball

Run, bitch, your stupid ass gon' fall

Stupid ass got hit up in his back

That's a what? That's a one back

Cause your stupid ass decide to lack

Ayy, you dissin' on the dead folks

And then you was up in that traffic at the red light

What, what? With a pole, on a strip of woe

I can't play with the ones cause I just act to the flow

Money to the flow, to the ceiling, six'five

I'm six'five, when I ride, I'm like eight'nine

Ayy, ayy, hop up in that stolen car

I could shoot from far or walk you down

Man, I got the tar, what you need

What you need? Just hit my phone

Hop out, I could run inside your home and hit your dome

Clap, clap, clap, knock, knock, knock

That's the fuckin' hit, I could hop out blick

Hop out spazzin' on this fuckin' track

I knockin, oh my God, bitch, I cannot lack

Pass it to the brody, how much longer on the fuckin' sack

Hop out, bitch, I cannot back, menace is a pack

If he play with me, then I just smoke him up, I cannot lack

Ayy, yeah, I cannot lack

Uh, I always be keepin' it a sack

Yeah, keep it a whole buck

Yeah, I ain't know, I stay stuck like the glue

I do the 543 and the motherfuckin' two and the one

Look at me, I ain't got no gun

Look at me, I'm havin' fun

Look at me in the school, cookin' up, we goin' with the buns

Uh, put some butter

Uh, look at me rappin' so clearly you never heard me stutter

Uh, yeah, smoothly

Uh, I'm gettin' fuckin' groovy

Uh, it's the B-I-G with the M-I-C

That's the mic and I'm callin' out the bitches I see

Uh, cold and icy in the Florida 239

What the fuck we doin? Where's the fuckin' sunshine

I miss the light, I miss the bright, I miss the warmer

Uh, I'm feelin' really, really torn

Uh, and I would never even mourn it

I just wake up every day and say, ayy, good mornin

Thank you, God, for wakin' me up one more time

So I could come to the studio and spit some rhymes

Ayy, uh, gotta drop it on you hoes

Gotta, gotta drop it on you bros

Ayy, you see me glitchin

Uh, why don't you shut the fuck up and stop bitchin

Yeah, gotta drop the mic

On the floor, on the ground

Yeah, you see me like, I don't give no fucks

I just stay like stuck

I'm out here in the car, then I'm sellin' a truck

Ayy