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grubby pawz & borirock - wave affair lyrics

[intro: al.divino]
(doot+doot+doot+doot+doot+doot+doot+doot+doot)
it’s like that, boy (you heard?), ayo (it’s real spooky, man)
ayo

[verse 1: al.divino]
spirits, apparitions, mirages (woof)
trap out the bando, catch a kid
can’t call it like my phone off, doggie, flawless (brrt)
victory regardless (regardless)
two months of your rent for these garments (chi+ching!)
you ain’t got no plugs like you amish (aha)
we really already on if being honest (sh+t real, man)
too much runtz spilled on the rug
need professional sh+ts to clean the carpets (brra)
make that call, gon’ leave a carcass (bing+bing+bing!)
swipin’ like it’s no tomorrow, up in neiman marcus
st+rdy bendigo, we needs the piece and log+in (that’s all we need!)
youngins still in the streets leapfroggin’ (huh?)
you just a target, my number way above the market price, promise (promise)
ronald mcdonald re+rock, custies still smokin’ like sonorous (still)
f+ck the repercussions, we live lawless (you hear me?)
split lids if we on it, like, “why’s winter?”
but the block feel like the middle of august (bing+bing! bing!)
tapped in, you just middlemannin’ product (aha)
chuck it like peyton manning in my apartment
(hah, look, boom!)
shooter doin’ football numbers, fiendin’ for a party
[verse 2: shaykh hanif & estee nack]
let the coke air dry, done in ten minutes like it’s air fryed
fear no man, only fear god
i’m a dead child with a live round
you know i’m always on ten when the .9s out
the matte+black benz is lit, interior: catchers mitt
she broke her neck just to catch a glimpse
mashallah, got my troops in the street like it’s martial law
told ’em run it like marshall faulk
soya milk in my chex mix
wash dirty money with the clean, let the checks mix
it’s all lit, give or take a grand, same n+ggas take ya life
same ones that shake your hand
i’m used to steak food and hard beds
ten years straight, blame it on my hard head
it was all a blur, don’t push a n+gga on the verge (ayo)
mask and mossberg like we on a purge (schyeah!)

[verse 3: estee nack]
alkaline water, h20, clean bubbles
comin’ from out the bottle, philosopher, somethin’ like aristotle (i’m the god)
full throttle, man, we came for the money, son
i ain’t here to argue, we drippin’ armani, not aéropostale (fly)
only five percenters gon’ hear the gospel (aha)
hostile (boom), everywhere that we steppin’, presence is near colossal (woah)
you ain’t been outside in a long time, n+gga
you’s like a buried fossil, the chance of you dyin’ very possible (f+ckin’ k!ll you)
draw a line, it’s not crossable
keep the .9, that’s the block obstacles
you can keep the powder, but it’s not chopable (sh+t is bleak)
stop, drop, and roll, sh+t is fire
kid is remarkable, the reason i’m walkin’, breathin’, livin’ with pockets full of dough (money!)
balenciaga boot stomp you through a foot of snow
got with domingo, then we was good to go (we great!)
i ain’t gave her no money, she got barranquilla bullets though (woah)
i be out in the buildings you n+ggas wouldn’t know (wee+wee)
[verse 4: thehiddencharacter & borirock]
summertime slidin’, the stick hidden, hittin’ wasabi
hip fire (brring), hitman for hire, wire, your sh+t shut (woah)
pull up in the trenches with the shotgun (skrrt), pistol+grip pump
who wanna rump? we get your mans slumped (brrt)
your b+tch lookin’ like she wanna s+x and hump, yo (d+mn)
face+popper with the glock, straight drop (brrt)
hurricane wrist, wanna hit the pot (whip!)
bullgod gettin’ loose, drop a deuce up in the red rock (woah)
rockin’ with k!llers, slippin’ get your head popped, bend blocks (ching)
jumpin’ out the sunroof, red dot (brrt)
lightin’ up the spliff for split
ain’t sh+t to get a fed knocked, come here, see, get this bread clocked (buh)
twist a b+tch mind like a leglock (for sure)
b+tter+tan leather seats in the van (skrrt)
[?] i’m gone like a jet (gone)
down to die for my respect (yeah)
masked up, hoodied down, and need more tecs
swing the mac, we make a mess, yo (brrt)
to test b+tches, hoes, bums, foes like geronimos
skirts gettin’ murked on arrival (uh, yeah), son of sam with the gat on a rival

[verse 5: borirock]
i want that fishscale and that dope on the raw (i need those)
stay noddin’ on the clock, now he don’t got a job (they got no)
we some dope boys, b+tch, we don’t gotta rob (need to hustle)
my b+tch ass so fat, she don’t got a opt (she got it, shorty)
laser on the glock, this sh+t glow in the dark (rrt)
if them kids in the playground, i’ma blow at the park (rrt, rra)
i’ma swag every bar (rock ‘n’ roll), i don’t got a thing (yay)
i rock, but i live (that’s it), bad b+tches dance with me, i’ma have to be rich
it is what it is (on dogz)
i feel like the sh+t (it’s me), you trickin’ on chicks that just hop on my d+ck (bozo!)
i don’t gotta buy that purse like you
if you f+ckin’ with them kids, take it personal (rra)
kickin’ off+white, but not how virgil do
shoot ’em on sight, then laughin’ about the news, on dogz (rrt)
[outro: borirock]
boom, boom, rra, wavy bullet, n+gga
on dogz, yo grubby

- grubby pawz borirock lyrics

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