Icewear Vezzo - Town & Country lyrics
Icewear Vezzo [Chivez Smith] Detroit, Michigan, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Icewear Vezzo - Town & Country lyrics]
Reuel, stop playing with these niggas
Uh, drank god shhh
Gang shit, nigga check the scoreboard
Yeah, forties, nines, macs, and the Ks
Sixty-thousand strong for this Rollie
Act yo' age
Cuddy banged my line for them oranges
That's my lane i don't trust a soul, bitch
I got stick when I'm on stage
Million dollars cash
Got me actin' like I'm Blade
We kill hoes too
Tell that bitch get out my face
Yeah, I want that drop ain't got
No seal? Then I'm gucci purple demon sipper
Spillin' drank all on my Nudies
Pop out with a thirty in that Glock
He a Big Uzi
762s up in that Drac', he call it Lucci
Double cup of lean, bitch
I be sippin' like I'm Tunechi
I'm a Ghetto Boy
So I spent fifty for the coochie
Plus I'm crippin' like I'm Tookie
I hang with the robbers, gang members
And the shooters we gone load them clips
Spin his block and make a movie
All white sticks, they white as crack
I call em "Pookie" (Iced Up Records)
Twenty-thousand dollars for lil' bro
To grab that Trishy
I just robbed the plug, shit
I be makin' bad decisions
Every time I go to buy my drugs, bitch
I got blicky if she ain't tryin' to fuck
Then she won't make it past my kitchen
Spent three hundred thousand for my
Jewelry up at Hutchie choppa on my side
This shit look like I got on crutches
I be on the 6
Run through that bitch just like I'm Stuckey
If it wasn't for probation
Tell my opps "You niggas lucky"
Yeah, got a bitch and she a stuffer
Made four hundred thousand off that
Ice down in Kentucky
Fifties in the bezel of that Patek
This bitch bustin'
Half a brick of puppy, sold it
In a Town & Country, nigga
We gon' call this bitch "Town & Country", man
We in a Town & Country, nigga
You know that's what we work in
We got a stash in that bitch too
Almost hit a bitch for a few
Stupid ass police wasn't lookin' right
But that's another story though gang shit
6 Prince big ice, big landlord
Uh, drank god shhh
Gang shit, nigga check the scoreboard
Yeah, forties, nines, macs, and the Ks
Sixty-thousand strong for this Rollie
Act yo' age
Cuddy banged my line for them oranges
That's my lane i don't trust a soul, bitch
I got stick when I'm on stage
Million dollars cash
Got me actin' like I'm Blade
We kill hoes too
Tell that bitch get out my face
Yeah, I want that drop ain't got
No seal? Then I'm gucci purple demon sipper
Spillin' drank all on my Nudies
Pop out with a thirty in that Glock
He a Big Uzi
762s up in that Drac', he call it Lucci
Double cup of lean, bitch
I be sippin' like I'm Tunechi
I'm a Ghetto Boy
So I spent fifty for the coochie
Plus I'm crippin' like I'm Tookie
I hang with the robbers, gang members
And the shooters we gone load them clips
Spin his block and make a movie
All white sticks, they white as crack
I call em "Pookie" (Iced Up Records)
Twenty-thousand dollars for lil' bro
To grab that Trishy
I just robbed the plug, shit
I be makin' bad decisions
Every time I go to buy my drugs, bitch
I got blicky if she ain't tryin' to fuck
Then she won't make it past my kitchen
Spent three hundred thousand for my
Jewelry up at Hutchie choppa on my side
This shit look like I got on crutches
I be on the 6
Run through that bitch just like I'm Stuckey
If it wasn't for probation
Tell my opps "You niggas lucky"
Yeah, got a bitch and she a stuffer
Made four hundred thousand off that
Ice down in Kentucky
Fifties in the bezel of that Patek
This bitch bustin'
Half a brick of puppy, sold it
In a Town & Country, nigga
We gon' call this bitch "Town & Country", man
We in a Town & Country, nigga
You know that's what we work in
We got a stash in that bitch too
Almost hit a bitch for a few
Stupid ass police wasn't lookin' right
But that's another story though gang shit
6 Prince big ice, big landlord