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xavy rusan - vintage velour lyrics

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[intro]
ay, ay
yeah, look, hey‌ ‌

[verse 1]
see‌ ‌’em‌ ‌leachin’ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌energy‌ ‌
i‌ ‌ain’t‌ ‌worried,‌ ‌give‌ ‌a‌ ‌f+ck‌ ‌about‌ ‌the‌ ‌enemy‌ ‌
beat‌ ‌his‌ ‌ass,‌ ‌got‌ ‌’em‌ ‌thinkin’ ‌there ‌was‌ ‌ten‌ ‌of‌ ‌me‌ ‌
that’s‌ ‌why‌ ‌tonight‌ ‌i’m‌ ‌on‌ ‌the‌ ‌weed,‌ ‌not‌ ‌the‌ ‌hennessy‌ ‌
n+ggas‌ ‌lyin’ ‌but‌ ‌i‌ ‌tell‌ ‌you ‌how‌ ‌it‌ ‌really‌ ‌be‌ ‌
droppin’ ‌game‌ ‌i‌ ‌could‌ ‌sprinkle‌ ‌for ‌infinity‌ ‌
i’m‌ ‌the‌ ‌player‌ ‌of‌ ‌the‌ ‌year‌ ‌if‌ ‌i‌ ‌do‌ ‌say‌ ‌
’cause‌ ‌i‌ ‌treat‌ ‌a‌ ‌sat+rday‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌tuesday‌ ‌
came‌ ‌thru‌ ‌with‌ ‌the‌ ‌sauce‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌soul‌ ‌food‌ ‌
eat‌ ‌good,‌ ‌smoke‌ ‌great,‌ ‌that’s‌ ‌a‌ ‌whole‌ ‌mood‌ ‌
see‌ ‌’еm‌ ‌hatin’ ‌but‌ ‌i’m‌ ‌workin’ ‌on‌ ‌my‌ ‌own‌ ‌mood‌ ‌
save‌ ‌a‌ ‌lot‌ ‌but‌ ‌i’m‌ ‌shoppin’ ‌at‌ ‌the‌ ‌whole‌ ‌foods‌ ‌
wholе‌ ‌time,‌ ‌half‌ ‌time‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌smoke‌ ‌break‌ ‌
intermission‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌mission‌ ‌for ‌the‌ ‌long‌ ‌cake‌ ‌
laced‌ ‌up,‌ ‌rope‌ ‌chain ‌got‌ ‌my‌ ‌tongue+tied ‌
top+down,‌ ‌titties‌ ‌out,‌ ‌let‌ ‌’em‌ ‌sundry ‌
i’m‌ ‌that‌ ‌n+gga‌ ‌and‌ ‌i‌ ‌said‌ ‌it‌ ‌’fore ‌i‌ ‌had‌ ‌proof‌ ‌
can’t‌ ‌believe‌ ‌it‌ ‌’til‌ ‌they‌ ‌see‌ ‌it,‌ ‌that’s‌ ‌the‌ ‌sad‌ ‌truth‌ ‌

[chorus]
ay,‌ ‌i‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta‌ ‌town,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌time,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌blunt‌ ‌wraps‌ ‌(outta time, outta blunt wraps, ay)
you‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta‌ ‌line,‌ ‌outta ‌bounds,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌comebacks‌ ‌(outta bounds, outta comebacks, oh, yessir)
i‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta ‌town‌, outta time‌, ‌where‌ ‌the‌ ‌thugs‌ ‌at‌? ‌(outta time, where the thugs at? yeah)
you‌ ‌be‌ ‌tellin’ ‌lies‌ ‌in‌ ‌your ‌rhymes‌, ‌where‌ ‌your ‌funds‌ ‌at‌? (in your rhymes, where your funds at+ay)
ay

[verse 2]
mailbox‌ ‌money‌ ‌in‌ ‌my‌ ‌real‌ ‌name‌ ‌
n+ggas‌ ‌thirty ‌years‌ ‌old‌ ‌and‌ ‌they‌ ‌still‌ ‌lame‌ ‌
tryna‌ ‌kick‌ ‌it‌ ‌in‌ ‌the‌ ‌h‌ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌field‌ ‌goal‌ ‌
touch‌ ‌down‌ ‌with‌ ‌finesse,‌ ‌that’s‌ ‌a‌ ‌heel+toe‌ ‌
look,‌ ‌f+ck‌ ‌what‌ ‌you‌ ‌thought,‌ ‌n+gga‌, ‌think‌ ‌better‌ ‌
sundress,‌ ‌no‌ ‌drawls,‌ ‌got‌ ‌the‌ ‌seat‌ ‌wetter‌ ‌
got‌ ‌my‌ ‌suede‌ ‌jumpsuit‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌windchill‌ ‌
hot‌ ‌girl‌ ‌but‌ ‌she‌ ‌blowin’ ‌like‌ ‌a‌ ‌windmill‌ ‌
truly‌ ‌i‌ ‌ain’t‌ ‌gotta‌ ‌flex‌ ‌for‌ ‌the‌ ‌routine‌ ‌
too‌ ‌clean‌ ‌with‌ ‌a‌ ‌plate‌ ‌full‌ ‌of‌ ‌poutine‌ ‌
n+gga‌ ‌worryin’ ‌’bout‌ ‌me can’t‌ ‌help‌ ‌you‌ ‌
way‌ ‌better‌ ‌when‌ ‌it’s‌ ‌heard‌ ‌and‌ ‌it’s‌ ‌felt‌ ‌too‌ ‌
get‌ ‌my‌ ‌weed‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌west,‌ ‌gold‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌south‌ ‌
show‌ ‌’em‌ ‌how‌ ‌to‌ ‌make‌ ‌them‌ ‌triple‌ ‌o’s‌ ‌from‌ ‌the‌ ‌couch‌ ‌
n+gga‌ ‌countin’ ‌on‌ ‌luck‌ ‌ain’t‌ ‌a‌ ‌life‌ ‌plan‌ ‌
i’ma‌ ‌have‌ ‌the‌ ‌last‌ ‌laugh‌ ‌for‌ ‌a‌ ‌life‌ ‌span‌ ‌

[chorus]
ay,‌ ‌i‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta‌ ‌town,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌time,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌blunt‌ ‌wraps‌ ‌(outta time, outta blunt wraps, ay)
you‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta‌ ‌line,‌ ‌outta ‌bounds,‌ ‌outta‌ ‌comebacks‌ ‌(outta bounds, outta comebacks, oh, yessir)
i‌ ‌be‌ ‌outta ‌town‌, outta time‌, ‌where‌ ‌the‌ ‌thugs‌ ‌at‌? ‌(outta time, where the thugs at? yeah)
you‌ ‌be‌ ‌tellin’ ‌lies‌ ‌in‌ ‌your ‌rhymes‌, ‌where‌ ‌your ‌funds‌ ‌at‌? (in your rhymes, where your funds+ay)



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