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vhs - tama lyrics

[intro: jorge vidrio]
this is tama, take 357

[verse 1: renzo]
i’m a f-cking ch-nk, that’s your kink, bet you like that
something ‘long the lines of a cosign shortstack
i know you b-tches lyin’ when you say you got hard racks
but i’m the motherf-cker who gon’ leave you in the dust
you the rookie and the vet?
nah, just another bust, aye
see me tryna keep it lowkey at the veranda
b-tches full of feces, wanna be me without the trauma
rarely wanna link anymore ’cause they all holla
for someone who’s not me and could never deal with the drama
but who woulda thought that a singer could put some rappers in the ringer? (wait, me)
and who woulda thought that a beaner lay some beats hotter than reefer? (wait, he)
who woulda thought that isaak vincent franklin was a raving cynic, with a different pigment, strictly business, dodgin’ anklets, hoppin’ fences, and never under pressure? (wait, we)

[verse 2: jorge vidrio]
me and my homies, we sweet and salty like a reese’s piece
put words on a god i don’t believe, i call that jesus piece
hold up, what’s the deal with all these essays sounding like a tweet
learn from the professional i’m ancient aristophanes
rockin’ these
cargo shorts since i’m carrying rocks ‘n’ weed
just kidding, please don’t send la migra out to sock my dreams
rollin’ inside a bimmer, all white like my bedsheets
’cause my bars been way too clean, you can call me neat freak
i swear to jesus, but won’t swear on god
where the h-ll is vidrio, he went too hard
b-tch you know me, i’m tending to my yard
use remains of rappers to fertilize
i’m bazooka, y’all pea shoot from afar
our sh-t explode like we just k!lled a star
going too fast but i don’t own a car
run over y’all playing catch up, c’mon
i feel pent up inside of me lately
f-ck y’all, f-ck comradery
aye, we the village hate society, my village hate sobriety
i only want to be better than the ones who inspire me, b-tch

[verse 3: franklin]
f-cked up from vision, to skull, to lungs
f-cked up from att-tude, d-mned to servitude
think it ain’t real? it does
ain’t ever rain where i stay, stay chasing checks, checks out
try not to fiddle with digits
back to zero ‘fore your pop stop fizzing
took you for a walk, now you’re missing it’s a given
invest in the block ‘fore the stock had risen
i’m never wrong, that’s my slogan
ranking up till i’m shogun
keep it fresh, never frozen
take you out, i’m your colon
i’ll spark you up, colonel volgin
i’ve never voted
no traction so he
acting like he granite, hoping n-gg-s would indite it
can see it in your walk, keep big shot talk, might hear a (yawk yawk yawk)

[verse 4: jorge vidrio]
aye, cue the intro music
i ain’t make it but i choose it
i ain’t starting from the middle
my teeth yellow, my tongue brittle
but i’ll f-ck around and fiddle
crash my car or get residuals
it’s all up to if i win the case for k!lling instrumentals
half man, half beaner on the beat
don’t get close to or approach him if you see him on the street
cut his teeth on breaking bones or is he bleeding just to bleed
and he tired of commercial bottom feeders on his feed, yuh
motherf-ckers wanna send me home
motherf-ckers wanna steal the show
motherf-ckers wanna shave that’s close
while i’m waking up from f-cking comatose
but i ain’t even gonna talk about it
’cause i ain’t even got a mouth to bite it
the tama want me vilify it
me and my boys crooks and liars like that

[verse 5: franklin]
dope man, dope man live down the street
and now he bragging that he knowing me
what i decree got ’em grinding teeth
thieve and grind your weed ’till it’s snowing kief
barrier reef going up in plumes, carry my beefs ’till i’m meeting doom
what it do to you and your crew, who’s really making moves
you just knew that it’s coming soon
itty bitty nuts, got no guts up in you
gotta find a rut that you walk home into
gotta dodge the cuffs, path to duck up into
never made a fuss ’till my cusp, then breakthrough
(hey, hey) f-ck what you say
it get switched up like a soup of the day
you’ll get b-tched up, you’re the snitch of the day
mouth full of my d-ck, couldn’t hear what you say
felons can’t vote, they too scared of the smoke
on the low ’cause we broke, but we doing the most
’till the doc is scribbling overdose, don’t settle n-gg-, simmering’s the most
fire to pan, i lived coast to coast
look at me now, i got the most to boast
and now my street name international
franklin going beyond post to post to post

[verse 6: renzo]
hol’ up, hol’ up, hol’ up, gimme some sp-ce
got a problem, put my fist to your face
k!llin’ all ’em, but i don’t do the race
half of you don’t know the sh-t that i say
keep scrollin’ thumb on your media
baby look sweet, but don’t f-ck a b-tch with chlamydia
(don’t f-ck a b-tch with chlamydia)
and i’m higher than the motherf-cking ceilin’, aye
please go fall in line, i ain’t dealin’ with that sh-t today
come and suck on my d-ck
’cause i’m not too fond of the foreplay
have you b-tches cry on the way back to your mommy place
gotta stop givin’ my time to the fake, hey
got a check finna spend on the topshop
want a lexus i beg for a droptop
cook the game up the broth like it’s hotpot
keep it comin’, you know i put time in the sweatshop
cause i keep livin’ up to your fears
petty b-tches, just give it a year
we’ll be all over articles, signin’ chests and b-ttin’ heads while you stuck in the rear

[outro: franklin]
there we go

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