Bambu - Butterfly Knife lyrics
[Bambu - Butterfly Knife lyrics]
(Old man)
So um, we're gonna cut sacks though i've got
Myself a filipino, they are also good
But all I can say is it's a different style
Ok, we'll start now
(Bambu) uh, this ain't a rap song
You know where you at homes
You know there's a hundred of
Us in that cadillac
You know Filipinos though
Might spill my 40 on the couch
But my mom ain't trippin' though
Cos she got plastic wrapped around it
Like a key of coke
I'm from the blood of savages
They brought to world fairs
Chained up to a pole for caucasians
To point and stare scared
The one's who could not drop from
The calibers the army had
So they made higher calibers: the 45 mag
White flag
Drench it in blood until it go dark red
You ain't gonna know until that hundred of us
Is outside lit ready to bump heads
Hunt heads, that cannibal appetite buried
Way down in my DNA
Being a G and a target to DEA make
It unlikely I give a fuck anyway
We are the reason marines wore a leather neck
I'm talking island style, we cut ear to ear
Right left
We call that a Manilla-cut necklace
And I bet you my knife click in
Like one flip you see blade
Then I get Leo Giron on you
Gonna catch a veterano-ass fade
I'm just saying
Well, I guess it's a rap song
You know where you at homes
I'm feeling like Mike dream
Holding a krylon when that mic on
My mommy told me that the
Bishop from the village church
Took young women to see god but
He would rape them first
I'm such a Debby downer
The local out-of-towner
I already know the issues
Surrounding the native homies
Out in Little Earth, the homies in CenCal
The homies who stuck in the federal box
But don't know when they get out
I come from Calcut just to
Scrap against the Spanish sword
And that's been with me since before
They cut my momma's cord
Is that resistance?
I repeat words from my older tracks
And that ain't really different from
These other fucker's dumb raps
Except the shit I say
Go rally folks like Abbie did
Ka Roger in a dodgers jersey
Challenging all of your policies
And when I say Bernie
And mean burn that fucking CVS
Grab me a couple of 40s
I got a few homies the
Homies just laid to rest
And I bet that my knife click, and
Like one flip you see blade
Then I go drunk uncle on go
Ghetto on your motherfucking face
(Old man)
You should see my aim to decapitate
I'll take your head off
Well after the show I might slash you
(Bambu) yeah it's a rap song
You know where we at homes
We in the middle of literal poverty
When we go back home we immigrant minded
Criminal Science will bend the rules a bit
The news will trick these stupid kids into
Viewing the world through a crucifix
(Filipino?)
They have sold off another election to give
To the riches and fill up our
Prisons and let them go at it turning
These good kids into the victims
(Oldman) when I lead with a thrust
When I want to take take half of your body
And perfect delivery
And I said that I cut you in your eyes
That is perfection
(Bambu)
We gonna get it open like a butter fly knife
Butterfly knife
So um, we're gonna cut sacks though i've got
Myself a filipino, they are also good
But all I can say is it's a different style
Ok, we'll start now
(Bambu) uh, this ain't a rap song
You know where you at homes
You know there's a hundred of
Us in that cadillac
You know Filipinos though
Might spill my 40 on the couch
But my mom ain't trippin' though
Cos she got plastic wrapped around it
Like a key of coke
I'm from the blood of savages
They brought to world fairs
Chained up to a pole for caucasians
To point and stare scared
The one's who could not drop from
The calibers the army had
So they made higher calibers: the 45 mag
White flag
Drench it in blood until it go dark red
You ain't gonna know until that hundred of us
Is outside lit ready to bump heads
Hunt heads, that cannibal appetite buried
Way down in my DNA
Being a G and a target to DEA make
It unlikely I give a fuck anyway
We are the reason marines wore a leather neck
I'm talking island style, we cut ear to ear
Right left
We call that a Manilla-cut necklace
And I bet you my knife click in
Like one flip you see blade
Then I get Leo Giron on you
Gonna catch a veterano-ass fade
I'm just saying
Well, I guess it's a rap song
You know where you at homes
I'm feeling like Mike dream
Holding a krylon when that mic on
My mommy told me that the
Bishop from the village church
Took young women to see god but
He would rape them first
I'm such a Debby downer
The local out-of-towner
I already know the issues
Surrounding the native homies
Out in Little Earth, the homies in CenCal
The homies who stuck in the federal box
But don't know when they get out
I come from Calcut just to
Scrap against the Spanish sword
And that's been with me since before
They cut my momma's cord
Is that resistance?
I repeat words from my older tracks
And that ain't really different from
These other fucker's dumb raps
Except the shit I say
Go rally folks like Abbie did
Ka Roger in a dodgers jersey
Challenging all of your policies
And when I say Bernie
And mean burn that fucking CVS
Grab me a couple of 40s
I got a few homies the
Homies just laid to rest
And I bet that my knife click, and
Like one flip you see blade
Then I go drunk uncle on go
Ghetto on your motherfucking face
(Old man)
You should see my aim to decapitate
I'll take your head off
Well after the show I might slash you
(Bambu) yeah it's a rap song
You know where we at homes
We in the middle of literal poverty
When we go back home we immigrant minded
Criminal Science will bend the rules a bit
The news will trick these stupid kids into
Viewing the world through a crucifix
(Filipino?)
They have sold off another election to give
To the riches and fill up our
Prisons and let them go at it turning
These good kids into the victims
(Oldman) when I lead with a thrust
When I want to take take half of your body
And perfect delivery
And I said that I cut you in your eyes
That is perfection
(Bambu)
We gonna get it open like a butter fly knife
Butterfly knife