Waka Flocka Flame - Stupid

Текст песни

Bands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nBands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nTrapping since yay-high, yes, Flocka stay fly\nWaka Flocka Flame stay rolling off the beans\nOff-yellow dope, call that shit off-base\n12 kicked my door, that’s another fucking case\nErase your whole face if you think 'bout robbing me\nLong, black dreads like my name was Bob Marley\nSo many tats, you would think I ride a Harley\nBig Glock 40 if he try to harm me\nDon’t need my big gun 'cause that ain’t no army\nSo many stacks, why the fuck you think it’s storming?\nSo Icey wet show, boy, let your check go\nSouthside Riverdale, folk, where I lay my head, folk\nFlocka!\nBands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nBands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nAll right, I whip it, whip it, whip it, whip it, down to get another one\nGon' holler at my folks, gon' tell them we gon' need a hundred of them\nMy hustle game phenomenal, you can can ask a hundred of them\nMy swagger like atomic bomb, blowing up the dumb and dumb\nStupid acting, bet I some with them Tommy guns\nI’m out here, 'bout to buy me one, these niggas don’t know I’m foolish, huh?\nEspecially on that cupid, huh? You feeling mighty stupid, huh?\nWhy are you with that burner? Bet I’ll beam you up to Jupiter\nI’m selling blow from nine to five, so you can call it my blowjob\nMy dope is like my beat 'cause when it hit the street, it’s straight drop\nFlava Flav wear the clock, but I be on the clock\nMy stacks the same color and size as a cobra\nBands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nBands in my pockets, bands on my tires\nSharp-creased jeans, sharper than some barbed wires\nBricks on the block, pills on the corner\nMarijuana coming in, straight from Arizona (stupid!)\nYou can come try, you can come test\nBut this Glock right here leaves a big mess\nSo Icey Boys, we’re swagging through your whole team\nLike Malcolm X, I’m getting bands by any means\nI got marching bands, in my pocket\nI think it’s a battle, tell the drummer to stop it\nDon’t need a plug, my CEO got bricks\nIf my bands running low, I’m coming for your shit