"They Vouching" lyrics
Boldy James & Your Boy Posca Lyrics
I be pushing heavy machinery through Conway, Mississippi
Pop Ace at the Ritchie, but you know my hombre get them brickies
Gritting in the trenches, let me know that shit done when you finished
Critical condition, I done left my victims in intensive
When it's risky business, just another one-way trip to Venice
Was gone for too long, left all of the raw-heads dope sick
American flag mag, all-red four-fifth
Blue tips in the clip on some baldhead ho shit
Ferocious, all praise to the host with the mostest
We smuggle loads through the postage, don't overdose on the dosage
Four kicks through a clef note, I make the blow do aerobics
The flow is sick like strep throat mixed with pneumonia and COVID
In high demand, back by popular vote, I was GOAT'd
It's Game Time, but don't need no remote control to control it
Fighting floaties, facing letters, bro, our day, they say forever
Had three shootouts out on bond, I damn near violated tether
Let's get it
They plottin', I'll red dot 'em
Spot him, got him
Let's kill him, no problem
Who shot ya? The robbers
And killers, they vouchin'
My hitters, they bouncin' out with choppers
'Nough power in prison to move a mountain
The robbers, killers, and shooters, they vouchin'
Wide shut, shit that I done seen'll leave your eyes bugged
Man down, mayday, left my AK with my side tucked
High as fuck, pockets in my skinnies, you know mines stuffed
Your time in that coffin gon' be way longer than that nine months
Hundred-K the long way, fifty-thou' tied up
Fourties in my Lincoln match these pointers in my ice buffs
Slappin' all these 'bows of the Vezzo got me iced up
Seven-hundred grams in a empty box of Rice Puffs
Baking soda mixin', BoJay asked me, "What's that white stuff?"
Caked up on the side of my 'Rex, look like some pie crust
Why must I be like that? How much I bleed the trap?
Don't chase the cat, I'll tame the dog, then let him eat the scraps
Niggas caught me at the airport, thought it was checkmate
A walking lotto ticket, rob me, you hit the sweepstakes
Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake, we play for keepsakes
Was fresh out of the 'spital, quarter-milli' in my neck brace
Pop Ace at the Ritchie, but you know my hombre get them brickies
Gritting in the trenches, let me know that shit done when you finished
Critical condition, I done left my victims in intensive
When it's risky business, just another one-way trip to Venice
Was gone for too long, left all of the raw-heads dope sick
American flag mag, all-red four-fifth
Blue tips in the clip on some baldhead ho shit
Ferocious, all praise to the host with the mostest
We smuggle loads through the postage, don't overdose on the dosage
Four kicks through a clef note, I make the blow do aerobics
The flow is sick like strep throat mixed with pneumonia and COVID
In high demand, back by popular vote, I was GOAT'd
It's Game Time, but don't need no remote control to control it
Fighting floaties, facing letters, bro, our day, they say forever
Had three shootouts out on bond, I damn near violated tether
Let's get it
They plottin', I'll red dot 'em
Spot him, got him
Let's kill him, no problem
Who shot ya? The robbers
And killers, they vouchin'
My hitters, they bouncin' out with choppers
'Nough power in prison to move a mountain
The robbers, killers, and shooters, they vouchin'
Wide shut, shit that I done seen'll leave your eyes bugged
Man down, mayday, left my AK with my side tucked
High as fuck, pockets in my skinnies, you know mines stuffed
Your time in that coffin gon' be way longer than that nine months
Hundred-K the long way, fifty-thou' tied up
Fourties in my Lincoln match these pointers in my ice buffs
Slappin' all these 'bows of the Vezzo got me iced up
Seven-hundred grams in a empty box of Rice Puffs
Baking soda mixin', BoJay asked me, "What's that white stuff?"
Caked up on the side of my 'Rex, look like some pie crust
Why must I be like that? How much I bleed the trap?
Don't chase the cat, I'll tame the dog, then let him eat the scraps
Niggas caught me at the airport, thought it was checkmate
A walking lotto ticket, rob me, you hit the sweepstakes
Brutus "the Barber" Beefcake, we play for keepsakes
Was fresh out of the 'spital, quarter-milli' in my neck brace
