Dumbfoundead - Old Boy Jon lyrics
[Dumbfoundead - Old Boy Jon lyrics]
Yo, pour that with 2 hands son
Shoes off, motherfucker here we go, yeh
Roll up to your
Function uninvited direspectfully
Never ran from anybody
Ain’t no point in catching me
Got the cops sketching me
Looking like a Vietnamese
Picture looking 8 bit, literally pixely
Got a squad Nepalese, Cats outta London
Made a pack that I hold em
Down packed till I'm hundred
All my project’s funded out
My own damn pockets
Got my own Johnnie Cochran if
I ever get bronson
Got getaway plans like I'm Jon Dillinger
Homie outta east coast working
On them cylinders
Bounce in a blink of an eye
Just like a humming bird
Sparks like the fourth of
July this ain't fireworks
Suitecase packed with givenchy
Women outta Mexico be calling me papi
Making Ceviche bring out the brief case
Big transactions with my dealer enrique
Bad chino, the great bambino the hint of van
Damn at least his damn ego
Porch full of pigeons to livein
By the sea gulls
Hood of the hills whats lesser of two evils
Hosted by my brand new fireplace used
To be the same place i put my dry race
Now I got assistance reminding me
My time and place chiefs in my kitchen
That are iron chef ranked
Talk about American dream
Getting dollars was a scheme
Of this arrogant team
That took the words out the
Mariam and wrote sixteens
Sold a little coke but your
Boys still totally clean
New shit for the moms
Furniture for the lawn she ain't never seen
Her son suited never went to prom
Lobster and steak with butter sauce
On the prawns your
Fucking with the best now it's old boy Jon
Shoes off, motherfucker here we go, yeh
Roll up to your
Function uninvited direspectfully
Never ran from anybody
Ain’t no point in catching me
Got the cops sketching me
Looking like a Vietnamese
Picture looking 8 bit, literally pixely
Got a squad Nepalese, Cats outta London
Made a pack that I hold em
Down packed till I'm hundred
All my project’s funded out
My own damn pockets
Got my own Johnnie Cochran if
I ever get bronson
Got getaway plans like I'm Jon Dillinger
Homie outta east coast working
On them cylinders
Bounce in a blink of an eye
Just like a humming bird
Sparks like the fourth of
July this ain't fireworks
Suitecase packed with givenchy
Women outta Mexico be calling me papi
Making Ceviche bring out the brief case
Big transactions with my dealer enrique
Bad chino, the great bambino the hint of van
Damn at least his damn ego
Porch full of pigeons to livein
By the sea gulls
Hood of the hills whats lesser of two evils
Hosted by my brand new fireplace used
To be the same place i put my dry race
Now I got assistance reminding me
My time and place chiefs in my kitchen
That are iron chef ranked
Talk about American dream
Getting dollars was a scheme
Of this arrogant team
That took the words out the
Mariam and wrote sixteens
Sold a little coke but your
Boys still totally clean
New shit for the moms
Furniture for the lawn she ain't never seen
Her son suited never went to prom
Lobster and steak with butter sauce
On the prawns your
Fucking with the best now it's old boy Jon