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letra de island boy - mori briscoe

[verse one: mori briscoe]
shawty bad and she from the islands
dior on her body, she stylin’
when i step in the spot, start wylin’
mask on and it ain’t for the virus
play wit’ me and we makin’ sh-t lit
said she love me but she love the d-ck
what’s my name? what’s my g-day?
how you love me and you don’t know sh-t?

[verse two: mori briscoe]
they like how i turn nothin’ to somethin’
cos last year b-tches was frontin’
i’ve been droppin’ all year, i’ve been buggin’
ain’t droppin’ no tears, drop sh-lls, i’m dumpin
and i’m ridin’ wit’ bando if you right or wrong
this sh-t really get deeper than songs
since she heard aaliyah, she try get it on
well f-ck it, i’m rippin’ her thong

[verse three: mori briscoe]
bend it over, get crazy
get nasty for a real n-gga
too slimy, can’t play me
heart cold, i don’t feel n-ggas
step on who? call backup
one nine eleven get his ass up
n-ggas musclin’, tell em catch up
[?] b-tches favourite rapper
[verse four: tay bando]
[?], tell em catch up
smokin’ on glizzy, what happened?
said she love me, she was cappin’
subtractin’ these b-tches like fractions
i ain’t cuffin’ on none of these hoes
i f-ck em, i dump em and you know i’m pass em’
i ain’t lackin’ in none of them stores
i’m clutchin’ this .40 and you know i’m blastin’

[verse five: tay bando & mori briscoe]
shoot first, i ain’t wit’ the askin’
first link, i’m breakin’ her back in
off the migos, she love how i’m slappin’
callin’ up mori, that’s just for the taggin’
keep goin’, can’t stop
keep throwin’ till that n-gga drop
sh-t bogus, [?]
free all my n-ggas off the rock

[verse six: mori briscoe]
and most of these n-ggas be tellin’
i’m surrounded by demons and felons
and most of my opps really soft
they ain’t let it go, we don’t buy what you sellin’
he can die for that sh-t that he reppin’
and if i’m in the spot then it [?]
bad b-tch tryna kick it like tekken
get straight to it then she get to yellin’
[verse seven: tay bando]
i got this b-tch quakin’
f-ck once, but no i ain’t datin’
shortie slackin’ but i got the patience
i’m all in her ribs like baby stop playin’
i be [?], but no i ain’t haitian
still got pistols when i’m on vacation
k!ll them n-ggas you feel like they playin’
my ooter pull up, he gon shoot like he paintin’

[verse eight: tay bando]
get me mad, just give me a reason
call [?], he shoot for no reason
keep squeezin’ til brodie not breathin’
smokin’ on [?], you kno’ that i’m steamin’
big mops, just watch how we clean ‘em
ap, them pieces been readin’
for roy, you know we gon leave ‘em
steppin’ on n-ggas for all these seasons

- mori briscoe

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