lirik lagu repsac - brixed up
(intro)
brixton? i hardly know her!
alright, 1776 motherf~cka
f~ck derek jeter
f~ck the yankees
f~ck new york
except the mets!
it’s all about the mets baby!
yaa the mets!
this is it, i’m not r~t~rded (r~t~rded!)
(maybe i am)
(verse 1)
ayo, what you mean by that?
back in portland, we had the gat (skraa)
got the 45 strap b~tch get out (ba ba)
or b~tch you’ll get clapped (draaa)
we in london, sipping the potions
club 49 we causing commotion
bri’sh girls be like “where is the lotion?”
b~tch i’m boutta get an explosion (boom!)
strip naked bend over
now shake your d~cks
this p~ssing contest is over
(verse 2)
(f~f~f~f fabes, fabes)
i just bronxed two people in a telephone pole
i’m in the street now i’m finna bronx 2 more (skraa)
piccadilly, suck me like my w~lly
suburban motherf~cker
f~cking hill billy
saying there’s a gap in the service
full throttle in her cervix
the tube driver got bronxed
he got bronxed by a nonce
he a boutta lube the tube
so he boutta eat my poo
i roll with my security so i don’t get bronxed
but then i get them bronxed (bronxed bronxed bronxed bronxed)
i like them color bronze
but i might as well be bronxed (bronxed!)
(jeg er ikke lav for faen!)
(he’s 5″2 with some attitude)
(verse 3)
brixed up on a sat~rday afternoon
wished i was getting as high as the moon
but i just can’t keep working with no outcome
just keep grinding totally overtime
smokin the trees coppin me tees
got a hole~in~one like golf i’ll compete
party all night and i’m ready to scr~p
don’t give me this cr~p
leave you with a cap in your ass
never giving up i ain’t never throwing down
give it to me and get to smacking another, bow
down to my crown never letting this go
i’m hitting ya and making ya up to spin another hoe
(verse 4)
we out here in brixton
getting our d~cks up
hitting yo b~tch up
making her spit up
(cum!)
ride the lubed tube round all night
yo b~tch never felt this tight
two minutes in and i’m already sore (what!)
went to the store got head from a wh0re (wh0re!)
this is s~x galore we already on round four
(hiyaa)
(verse 5)
brixed up
drop top
cocaine
lock up
my bros packing
caught the ops at the red light lacking
tracking n attacking zombie through the side you can hear bones cracking
jakes slacking bands stacking
beautiful b~tch that you know i be tappin
oh sh~t i’m going insane street king i don’t wanna be vain
shoot shoot like i’m tory lanez
blue blood that be flowing my veins
og cause i’m walking with that cane
a goat to be
i’m in my own lane
a catastrophe
don’t chat to me
(outro)
(hiyaa)
(volume reduction)
ayo you know all of them ops be chatting p~ss you know
we shank ’em down, get that?
you get wet fam, okay fam?
haha!
(ait we good)
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