BROCKHAMPTON - ST. PERCY lyrics

I'm the same one you seen in the classroom
Ayy we was chillin' in the stall
Makin' crowds move‚ ayy
Young K still posted in the A like a Brave
No chain ya boys got would
Make my neck fuckin' bang
Hangin' on your speaker‚ bangin'
On your speaker‚ baby (Ayy)
Need to find a reason to make you believe me
Baby (Ayy, ayy)
Young NOLA‚ PlayStation controlla (Ayy, ayy)
Send 'em just to get 'em
I hit 'em when it is over (Ayy)
Roll over‚ yo soldier, no coaster
I told ya I'm back whenever the storm is over
Send it back if them boys
Wanna feel the clover
No closure, never reply to faux orders
My nigga so sculptured, such a short quota
(Ayy, ayy) police pull up on me, boy
I kept that cold shoulder (Ayy, ayy)
Cup runneth over for a hunnid orders
(Ayy, ayy) all I got is pennies, still
Want me to fuckin' flow, bruh (Ayy)

There is no love in the ghetto
Money got it where I just can't let go
There is no love in the ghetto
Money got it where I just can't let go
Ooh oh ooh, oh, oh

How you do that right
There, boo, I'm bamboozled, yeah
Legs go up behind the
Head like leopard ambushin', huh
Give her space, big ol' drop
Call it Grand Canyon, huh she bust back
Blow a fuse out the damn cannon
Circus, olé, okay (yeah) , roly (Woah)
Poly, slide that
(Uh) , pole, yeah (Hm) low blow (O oh)
Not seen like a dodo
(No) , I skip fall, stay snow globe (Ayy)
Stuck inside the corridor
(Ayy) , make me go so loco (Ayy)
Major League, I'm Sheen
(Uh) , call me Wild Thing (Uh)
She got strings all up the
Neck just like a violin (Ah)
I crave that chada ching
When that venom sting (Hey)
Eyes turn redder than a
Motherfuckin' cherry stem

Run up a check, ayy, uh (Run up a check)
Hit 'til I miss, ayy, uh (Hit 'til I miss)
And then keep on hittin'
My niggas ain't quittin', they
Way too legit, ayy, uh (They way too legit)
Don't get on my list, ayy, uh
(Don't get on my list)
I'm from the abyss, ayy, uh
(I'm from the abyss) you sayin' you real
But I watch how you act
And I can't be convinced, uh
Smokin' 'em out like a habit
You know we could make it tragic (Ayy)
Money had never made a nigga (Ayy)
We holdin' all our money in the mattress
(Ayy) fire rapid like a savage (Ayy)
Taste is way above your palate (Ayy)
No, I ain't for burying the hatchet (Ayy)
Take a break to pick apart
The balance of this madness

Uh
You got big boy money like you ready for war
You be talkin' like you really
Gon' run that though
You be runnin' like the snot
Drainin' in from your nose
That's that ice cream, sugar
That cocaine throat
And this shit gon' bounce like
My shin off your dome
And you know these boys deep
We ain't fittin' in the door
And my dogs, they bark, Michael Vick on fours
Boy, this shit long gone
Why you hit my phone? (Whoa)

See how full it is, homie see how real it is
Hell no

Murder man, murder man
Someone better hold me before
This shit gets ugly murder man, murder man
Someone better– murder man, murder man
Someone better– murder man, man
Someone hold me b–, b–, shit gets ug
Murder man, murder man
Someone better hold me before
This shit gets ugly