SMITH.b - WHOAREYOU

Swerve with no regard, feet up in the stolen car
All these blue faces my pockets look Violet Bourgegard
They see me on the street and they say "what's with the pipe?"
I tuck the jewelry point it at em said that silence saves lives
Might hear 2 kicks like a metal band drums
Before the pot say shit see what the kettle hath brung
I drive a nail with a bullet way these level hands sprung
Might fuck up a banjo make the devil man run
It's all hand to hand funds, credit scams i'm trusted
Handle grand sums, with gloves diamond encrusted
Underground safe, all my treasure is sunken
Bank account looking like criminal justice funding
Wild calls, jack London, vacation locations rustic
With muskets the most dangerous game is what we hunting
Accustomed to big discussions where commas are in abundance
Let's hear it, cause the number you showed me got me disgusted
With one call, all your favorite rappers abducted
White vans scatter on planned routes as instructed
Tools rusted, we leaving faces erupted
And drop em three thousand miles away on a bus bench
Business conducted, much love to the PK Crew
And you could never be us, but we could easily be you
And better, letterman jackets should be our next move
Let us in Letterman, late nights are what we do
Who the fuck are you?

Written by:
Bryce Smith

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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