stanwill - icy ass buffs lyrics
[intro]
(gavin, turn this b+tch up)
icy+ass buffs, i got— b+tch
icy+ass buffs, i got— d+mn
icy+ass buffs, i got— haha
[verse]
icy+ass buffs, i got carats on my nose like a snowman
catch an opp and air him with that pole, i don’t throw hands
gotta know he married to them pros if you know stan
yeah
he done iced the bando, lando went and threw some carats in the track
how i’m ridin’ with the ar, need a parrot on my back (arr)
i be sh+ttin’ ‘cross the planet, i’m in paris with them racks
people sayin’ they gon’ k!ll me, they hilarious with that, huh
hutch got me icy, i might freeze
think i only like her on her knees
poppin’ out with glocks and arps
christian, off, essentials, got me blessed, they think i sneezed
she think i’m the joker, she gon’ f+ck me ’cause my cheese long
everybody rockin’ off, it’s funny ’cause my team on
fourteen+hundred+dollar ‘fit, i only got some jeans on
quick to leave a b+tch right where i met her, i don’t need hoes
unky like bill withers in that trap, he got his lean on
i might walk up in the louis store with double g’s on
fifty on the switchy, catch him out and cut the beam on
get the lo’ and leave him in the ditch if ganger ding+dong
she think i’m her baby, i ain’t tron, though
i might wear designer caps, but i ain’t lyin’, though
i think doggy need a scale ’cause what he eyein’ for?
everywhere i go, i keep the nine, they think i’m rondo
give that b+tch a flu shot, i know my ex sick
unky got the golden wrist the way he ‘rex whip
i done wrote a thousand visas on that x6
on my to scratch a milli’ off that checklist
twenty+pointers in my buffs, but forties in the glock
if i call up the militia, 40 hit his top
brodie poured another line, he snorin’ in his pop
gang’ll get the f&n or he can get his chop
middle fingers every pic, i don’t like to pose
they ain’t tryna f+ck, doggy tryna fight the hoes
brodie wanna kick the cup, tryna right his wrongs
treat your b+tch like a dog, tell her bite this bone
if you see a coffee cup, it ain’t no caffeine
i don’t even want the sl+t if she don’t act mean
all that perpin’ get you blew, i’m tryna stack green
in the sprinter, b+tches runnin’ like the track team
think my opps strippers, they some hoes with some poles on ’em
know i got they backs, told my bros i can’t fold on ’em
i’m a scammer, when i hit that road, i ain’t sold nothin’
give a b+tch my nuts if the hoes wanna hold somethin’, huh
[outro]
dog sh+t militia
b+tch
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