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letra de banana / phone - jr specs

[intro:]
yeah, yeah

[chorus 1:]
get this on camera the clip is bananas
i’m sending ’em smoke like i’m out in havana
got this here rap for your head like banana
that flow is reloaded like tony montana
heard that my sh-t ringing off in miami
i pull up to bro, man it’s already fans
you know they loving this sh-t back in hampden
i might f-ck around and make me a band, d-mn

[verse 1:]
f-ck y’all talking bout?
you know i love to punch in while you clocking out, yeah
pull up and get tossed around, got two spots now, i’m the talk of towns, yeah
you love jeng- i knock it down
you know i’m all up in the box like lost & found, yeah
funny how you try to cop the style, you my son, you my foster child
i ain’t having it, crack a fifth, p-ss the sh-t
i crafted this, it broke then ratchet this, i mastered sh-t
i practiced, i’m back again
don’t give a f-ck what your grade point average is
you can p-ss the lab, won’t p-ss the kid
it ain’t a labrador, finna bag your b-tch
i never had dior, cause the bag is thin
i need a supermax, b-tch, i’m immaculate
you gotta-

[verse 2:]
looking at me two-faced, b-tch i got two names
feeling like bruce wayne
i don’t hit the club but i’m up every tuesday
all on a monday, cooking up a new wave
did it back home, now everybody rapping
i ain’t even mad, let my kids get active
snapping in tennessee if your team want static
trying to make a cl-ssic, they b-mp my practice

[phone]

[verse 2:]
nah, nah, nah, hold the f-cking phone
h-h-how do you do it jr?
yo, yeah, you are now b-mping hampden, maine’s finest
it’s a lotta long faces, beauty sleeping on your highness
and like a b-mper sticker want to put that sh-t behind us
they couldn’t be my pen pal but claim to be some writers
okay, go off i’m looking for a boss move
see the new heights so i’m reaching like fox news, yeah
who the f-ck you tryin’ talk to?
i’m me all the time, you hit the booth in a costume
and if a beat needs murder you know who to call
i keep the mind sharp just to stick you like a voodoo doll
you boutta meet your maker, cue the oompa loompa songs
for doing something stupid while i’m stacking money stupid tall
just a kid from the sticks chucking deuce
with concealed permits for these d-cks and numbered tool
i been mixing up the juice with a little hundred proofs
made the winter f-cking cruel, need a wicked summer soon, yeah
at age five i was f-cking cooling outside
all my chalk drawings were just wack rapper outlines
i’m a laboratory type of dude you the couch kind
your city got more people than my state on the south side, yeah (ding!)
okay… maybe not, still wish a mo’f-cker would like a table top
still busting sh-t out the blue like a naked cop
turning off the celly, leave a message on the day this drops

- jr specs

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