[Verse 1: Stan The Third]
A muhhf**ing beat bandit
Trying to get these bands up
The bank been abandoned
Gotta understand in the land of the bandwagon
White collar, white man
But the son pants sagging
While we get shot for standing
A bandstand for damn Stan to fan out
A broadband of bad b**hes, ain't no reason to pout
Go bandicoot up in her cooter, bury that with no sprout
Her bandana blue leggings and she strut with a doubt
I'm tryna, make the band and make a band then disband it
When its time for my transit, put contraband in the casket
Wrist dance need a wristband I'm cooking up cla**ics
Banderilla through the bullsh** and throw them a bandage
Banned from the band cla**, only played the C notes
A cut above my brothers, better bandwidth for free throws
Better band with or stand against and get disposed
Gold bands for the sound, expose my propose
Like I'm a husband to these melodies
Feeling blue, sipping yellow, blowing mellow trees
Feel the pressure when I prompt myself for pleasantries
Bout the bands, matrimony got me heavenly
So don't abandon me