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fela frye - fuck this versace lyrics

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[verse 1 fela!]

versace, versace them n-ggas is grilling i spit that hibachi/
you loving medusa you bugging you better separate her head from her body/
her body’s a blessing like she only eat that halal but i slipped her salami/
she popping that p-ssy, i popped in a p-rno and told her to copy/
i find it ironic that they on my d-ck yet they calling me c-cky/
they calling me papi and flashing me too that is my paparazzi/
i feel like a bullet i’m focused as f-ck and you n-ggas is dead if you stop me/
i go to the bank like i work at bank and i’m dressing like ted debiase/

versace, versace you couldn’t get that if you f-cked donatella/
you don’t got the cheese or the cheddar, american, or mozzarella/
i feel like i’m rich and your chick jack me off like my jacket margiela/
swear that she’s wetter than ever before, now she won’t even share your umbrella/

don’t act like you ty, don’t act like you hav or quan, don’t act like you fela/
don’t act like you a.r. or nico or prezi my n-ggas is hl forever/
we sh-tting on n-ggas we sonning them too, and i feel like we trained them to potty/
f-ck all you jimmy the bulls we will son your whole crew now they growing up gotti/
i don’t give a f-ck, i don’t gotta front, i’m gon’ keep it a buck like milwaukee/
i’m keeping it real, sh-ts k!ll or be k!lled and your only option kamikaze/
these n-ggas defeated, i look at they feet all i see is huarache huarache/
that chick got conceited then hopped outta pocket i’ll treat her like my tamagachi/

number one stunna next summer i’m stunting like i know karate/
and you know n-ggas is high when they walk out that lobby eyes looking like mr. miyagi’s/
money the gift and the curse need enough to go out like a kennedy/
fight fire with fire so naturally y’all wanna light me up literally
rocking vans back on my grind n my grizzly that’s from vancouver to tennessee/
f-ck this poor life is coming to put all you f-ck n-ggas out of your misery/

and i got convenient amnesia i won’t even toast to your memory
won’t even pour out no hennessy/
its like i ain’t got the decency/
recently i been a beast y’all got beats for me/
i bet i’ll body them easily/
came to collect on that bet where ya meeting me, bet’ not be cheating me/
medusa head on me like i’m ‘luminatti they swore me to secrecy/
i bring home the bacon, mami making pernil and saving a piece for me

bachata bachata be trying to dance i might learn from ya mama/
she teaching me steps till i’m ya step daddy dishonored ur papa/
no merengue but reggae ya never out rank me, i swear that i’m shabba/
stiff arm these b-tches, then hurdle these hoes, gotta get to the chopper/

- fela frye lyrics

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