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letra de pandemonium - stanwill

[intro]
(ayoray, turn me up)
(ayo, tyrell made that ho?)
yeah, b-tch

[verse]
i’m the man in my city but i ain’t the mayor
joggy palm angels, sneaks christian but i ain’t the savior
up a curry on your b-tch, bet the pape’ amaze her
b-tch, you a small fry, your n-gga, he a baconator
i’m a tag popper, you at the mall lookin’
like we chinese, if we catch dog, cook him
all my b-tches bad, i should give ’em all whoopings
i’m the type to drop fifty, you would get the ball tooken
flip the fully lever, gotta both hand the drac’
if i get caught up, i bet my lawyer choke slam the case
in my rap bag, don’t think i’m gon’ scam today
matter fact, i’m ’bout to print a check and go scam the bank
shoot him up, if he don’t die, we slidin’ with a booster shot
had to dump the gen3, i went and bought a newer glock
dirty double coffee cup, bro sippin’ on a sewer pop
dilly-ass pendant, boy, you need to get your jeweler shot
back-to-back palm angels joggies but we all demons
dog sh-t militia, might be skinny but we all eatin’
goose coat off the nike tech, b-tch, it’s frost season
fendi tee with the eyeb-lls, i’m the all seeing
should i do the plain jane or bustdown rollie?
quick to up the big f-cker, it get pandemonius
twin bl!ckies on me, pop out on some zack and cody sh-t
if my mans down, i pick him up, he don’t owe me sh-t
bet she f-ck me and bro, we be parlayin’ hoes
glocky with the red beam, this a darth vader pole
a ho gon’ be a ho, you can’t change her, bro
if you ain’t sb to the dsm, you a stanger, bro
(checkmate, touched a hundred off a deskjet)
god d-mn, takin’ chunky triple-s steps
this a tesla, i ain’t gotta make the next left
i be bustin’ banks but unc’ can teach you ’bout the rex next
sh-t, f-ck, d-mn, b-tch neck got my toes twitchin’
i ain’t elmo but you can catch me with some long chicken
had to block your b-tch ’cause she was on my money phone trippin’
they say money talks so when i speak, all the hoes listen
fee-fi-fo-fum, runnin’ in these track2’s
punch, scam, slide, file claims, i don’t trap, dude
knocked the loose screws off his ass, b-tch, we pack tools
cold iraq jeans, iraq sneaks, they a rack too
right pocket swole, left pocket knotted up
sh-ttyboyz do the sh-ttin’, know they tired of us
all our b-tches rich, might f-ck around and prada us
anywhere that brodie caught an opp, you know he shot it up
they was lookin’ down until i got it up
sh-t, f-ck, catch him out of bounds, your baby out of luck
f-ck, d-mn, this a hundred rounder, be done shot a buck
he ain’t sh-ttyboyz, he ain’t around, he can’t rock with us
[outro]
b-tch, yeah
sh-ttyboyz dog sh-t militia, that’s on every song
yeah

- stanwill

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