J'ouvert Lyrics - Brockhampton

Me llamo Roberto, y estos son los sueños que no olvidados 

Take it all or leave it 

(I feel you) 

When there's a rough patch, don't eyefuck the parachute 

They goin' AWOL the second that the light goes on 

This a treat ain't it, so initiate the powder room 

I pull it back and check my rosie, and yeah, I'm bout to bloom 

It's that ninety nine from hell shit, parlay like when the lane switch 

Combat how you feel, strobe light, hit the killswitch 

Neck twist like exorcist, I'ma see you 'round 

'Cause tonight's the night I'm losin' all I'm doin', I'm about this 

White cuffs, wood grain 

Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank 

White cuffs, wood grain 

Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, bank, bank, suitcase 

On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, bank, bank 

Related 

27 Best Ever Songs From Movie Soundtracks 

LATEST SONG: Fat Joe, Dre, Lil Wayne - 'Pullin' - LYRICS 

NEW SONG: Machine Gun Kelly - 'Candy' Lyrics feat. Trippie Redd 

'Til the casket drops, I will play God 

Fuck the world, let's start a riot 

Got too much too quick 

God damn, I'm feeling sick, bitch, call the doctor 

Don't act like I ain't been dead to ya 

Don't act like I ain't deserve this shit 

'Cause that's the day, inside my head 

That's why I did the drugs I did 

Got issues with these motherfuckers 

Looking down from they pedestals 

On that petty view, on that petty shit 

Pray for peace with a knife in my hand 

Speak my piece like a gun to my head 

Come equipped just to blast this shit 

Misunderstood since birth 

Fuck what you think, and fuck what you heard 

I feel betrayed, you can keep the praise 

And all of the fuck shit, need to get away 

Still ain't get to pray to the fickle-minded people 

I thought I knew better, wish I knew better 

Should have known better, wish that I was better 

At dealing with the fame and you fake motherfuckers 

Guess I'm too real 

Photos 

Excuse we, let me pass 

Let me see your ass 

We ain't playin' nice 

Little guy 

I'll be in my bag (excuse we) goin' in (let me pass) 

Guess who isn't built for this, man? 

Me and my thugs built for this, man 

We goin' for the gifts in the gram 

I'll be in my bag (excuse we) goin' in (let me pass) 

Smokin' all the grams in this bag, man you isn't built for this, man 

Run it like a gingerbread man, fuck that shit, stay hydrated nigga 

I'ma let that bitch go home, 'cause, my momma, wassup? 

Wassup? 

Black power fist hangin' from my black 'fro 

Yo, she saw me in that cereal she wants a nigga Oreo, damn 

Break the dam when I spit the flow 

I'm on the lam, not the fuckin' wolf 

Hoppin' out the van, I'm on Abbey Road 

Fans with cameras in the bathroom, man that's difficult 

I just wanna smoke a Backwoods by my lonely self 

Chill, watch numbers go up, book off the shelf 

I found myself and put my face on a missing shirt 

I dropped out with no promise that this shit would 

(That this shit would work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work) 

(Work, work, work, work, work, work, work) 

With the dogs, in my ride, 'nother door, suicide 

Paranoid, do or die, you should know, never lie 

With the dogs, in my ride, 'nother door, suicide 

Paranoid, do or die, you should know, never lie 

Pull up with the racks to your shop 

Sim sim sim badda bim, get shot 

One, now two, now three, that's a lot, damn 

White cuffs, wood grain 

Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank 

White cuffs, wood grain 

Money in the suitcase on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, bank, bank, suitcase 

On my way to the bank, on my way to the bank 

On my way to the bank, bank, bank