lirik lagu vague vanguard - wounded way
[verse 1: wéye]
t~t~t~t~t~t t~t~t~test
t~t~t~test test, t~t~t~test
more grudges means less small talk to deal with
it also means less fake n~ggas to keep it real with
i’ll let you heal b~tch, but i been coolin’ out
sometimes i twitch when i feel your name come out your mouth
man, i don’t like wéye, sometimes i fight wéye
sometimes i look around and ask “which is the right wéye?”
i miss the nice weye, that sugar spice wéye, that weekend heist wéye
peace love brown rice wéye, i’m gone
now i’mma stay treated like a doubleday
f~ck em up twice, grab the popcorn like a double date
that’s hd b~tch, high definition
that’s a phd, b~tch, pretty huge distinction
[verse 2: fābō]
i’m takin’ off baby i’m trying to see the stars tonight
jäger mentality, move like i’m trying to start a bar fight
so high off life, i keep forgetting ’bout tomorrow
beasty n~gga, swear i feel like fābō drago
if time is borrowed, where exactly do i trade it in?
afraid i’m wasting so much of life just looking for mrs. pinkett~smith’s clone
me and my sis were staying home alone, since the first grade
what really makes you think that we would ever trade our independence?
she said she loved me, not sure what that meant
your boy is 19, ain’t trynna buy into no unnecessary commitment
but i was smitten, for one gyal
but that was back when i was just a boy~child
now my boys wild for hours and hours
and throw some papers ’round some curated flowers
that bring they mojo back like they austin powers
and all you cul~de~sacs ain’t f~ckin’ with ours, no really though
and as for my adlibs, i’m better when them sh~ts in stereo
this sh~t could get ~~~~~~~~??? milly rock
on this here block i might pop you, no really though
you ignorant fellow, i just turned to mellow, you bring out my honey nut cheerios
i pull a few strings and i just might go extra~terrestrial i’m on my competitors
no matter the time or the place or the date, all you f~ck boys can not get ahead of us
(i’ll be d~mned if you boys get ahead of us)
man, fābō disgustin’, fābō is nothin’
when fābō say that he ’bout it, he bluffin’, this n~gga fully dysfunctional
then he bring up the b~tches, i get uncomfortable, get used to it son
i’m throwin’ cheques on my to~do ’til nike throwin’ me one
and another one, and another one…
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