lirik lagu bu hip-hop - i need you
[inspecta]
crack of dawn, but i snooze that b-tch
“ugh five more minutes!” “no 2, thats it”
gotta get breakfast, bay state, need no recipe
fingerprints, waffles, chocolate chips then its smg
sweatpants and timbs, lookin like hooligans do
till i run up on professors and pretentious students in suits
saying “hi” “h-llo” “how are you?”
[small talk] [small talk] “good bye!” “sianara”
then its back to the crib, its a friday night
cop a bottle of goose, p-ss the dutch and the light
hit my boys up, they already know what i’mma say to them
‘wheres our crew at? you know, jack, johnny, and jameson?”
c-cktails of chaos and mayhem
exit signs we break’em, extinguishers: we spray them just for playing
stay up till sunday, the party ain’t over
8am? goddammit, i’m at cl-ss hungover…
[hook: dylan mawby][x2]
they be, like what’s it to you
i need you and my bu crew
[dylan mawby]
m-ss appeal, too ideal, rep dc like i’m bradley beal
shooting hoops and getting babes, acing tests and scoring a’s
this m-ss school keep me busy with cl-ss
let the stress rise, no apartheid, see my mind’s eye wither away
no i am no slave to the system, i won’t be a victim
i’ll persist son
got this girl back to my bed
b-ttered her m-ffin now i’m huffin’ and puffin’ like the big bad wolf
night turns to day, day turns to night
i’m a knight to all the ladies out there
be so rare, be so suave
looking like a drunken slob
steady mawbin always lobbing
back to pratt now
cop a strikeout
bout to bop now
i’m p-ssing out how
i check it out now
funk soul brotha style
then it all goes black as i’m fading down the nile
[hook: dylan mawby][x2]
[diesel hayes]
taiwanese trannies trick’n and floatin’ up on the trapeze
supposedly hopin’ the ropes entertain the attendees
chemise rouge like we just shot up copacabana
swervin’ wit scorsese, whippin’ ascot bailey, totin’ dual hammers
but its all just a fantasy dog
i’m screen writing the script, just to p-ss it along so
tag along or carry on, cause there’s only enough room in the carry on for my girl, scout’s tagalongs
clocks hot, bending circles, just past 45
smirkin’ at latina cuties from portola drive
mulatto baby, buscemis be laced gracefully, antic-p-tin’ the embrace of ya face so playfully
take a breath in
let it out doe
bell tolls and i’m off to the next cl-ss
sprintin’ down the main ave, hopin’ not to lose track
jukin’, spinnin’, smitten to catch a glimpse of that girls -ss
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