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ryan jacket - hunnid bands remix lyrics

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(intro: ryan jacket & -j.update-)

yo this track is so hard man, y’all are not ready. -jacket chill out, chill out jacket!- this sh-t is so flame-it’s fu-f-cking fire man, hardest sh-t of 2016 off top. -chill, chill-i don’t know about that…- let’s get it!

(verse 1: ryan jacket)

hunnid band, hunnid band hunnid band
i don’t really know how the f-ck ima land-
but i can’t, i’m the man, all you f-ckers bland
so i’m here with this sh-t, giving you a hand
motherf-ckers don’t get where i f-cking stand-
with my fam, eating ham, wearing street brands
and i can’t f-cking wait ’til i meet fans
until then ima ball cause i’m me man
i’m on some other sh-t, you can’t stop me
i’ve got a f-cking style you can’t copy
i’m ryan jacket, b-tch you so sloppy
and i’m gonna do this sh-t-
yeah just watch me, don’t dodge me
b-tch i’m going harder than a motherf-cking n-z–
with a d-mn mind full of gold you can not see
and my real friends know i’m sick and tired of all these parties
and besides i do not really f-ck with all these thotties

(verse 2: shakewell)

from bottom to top, then she giving me top in a new benz (she giving me top)
i drink and finesse d-mn, we came from the bottom we winning (aye, aye)
carti (?) hit both of your wrists, f-ck boy you look like a lick
i might just slide up and f-ck on your b-tch, back to the trap got a kilo to flip
back out in vegas i’m moving them bricks, just hit the strip with a gram
doubled up look my double cup now i might fly to j-pan, who be the man?
word on the streets is that boy got a plan, running them out with the heat in my hand
give a f-ck, shoot it up, xanny’s in my double cup (doo, doo, doo), boot it up
hoes wanna f-ck tell them to suck up the squad and she one of us

(verse 3: ryan jacket)

i’m on some other sh-t, you can’t stop me
i’ve got a f-cking style you can’t copy
i’m ryan jacket, b-tch you so sloppy
and i’m gonna do this sh-t-
yeah, just watch me cop me bodies in front of yo f-cking shawty homie
make a good impression and end up calling her mami homie
call me “mr. jacket” when you at my f-cking doorstep
wake me when there’s about 100 bands up at my doorstep, the wh-r- slept-
on me back in my days when i was a bit overweight
i’m still pretty chubby but that’s just because i overate
searching la streets for a chick a bit over 18
maybe come and help me chase my motherf-cking dream

(verse 4: ryan jacket)

please give me the cheese man
this whole f-cking game is a tease, d-mn
so give me the mulah like buddha and scoot on your scooter
you really don’t wanna catch these hands
from a jew head-ss like me, and making a boom dead-ss like me
fight your f-cking stepdad dead-ss like me
now leave me alone sipping this fine iced tea from the f-cking mcdonald’s
got your b-tch some f-cking cookies but she don’t even want them (f-ck)
now i’m sadder than sh-t, and i play some scary music screaming out triple six
i’m fixing visions ignorant and praising religion
you silly sinning b-tches really think that you winning
but f-ck all that sh-t, i’m only a rapper
i’m sitting with some bands in my hands and i’m feeling real dapper



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