Joey Fatts - The Wave Matthews Band lyrics

[Intro: A$AP Yams] Yeah, it's your boy Yamborghini on the motherf**ing check in AKA Wavybone AKA the Puerto Rican R Kelly AKA Young Chocolate Factory Parentheses, no h*mo, you feel me? In this life, you got two kinds of people Those who ride the wave, and those who provide the wave Me, Fatts, and Da$h, we out here providing the wave In Versace swim trunks, surfing the seven seas Y'all on the beach shore with your khakis rolled up With your chancletas in your hand, just observing the wave You feel me? [Verse 1: Da$h] This that Tony T getting thrown off the boat Rosenburg wouldn't have died if he ain't blow all that coke Carlito watching b**hes through the peep hole Get a message to a seagull, fly away birdy, I'm 7:30 Laying on the beach, b**h on my torso, sand in my feet I'll [?] just to try the physique Sit at the top in the zenith, see Medina, roll the weed for me Haters hating but it really ain't a thing to me Young immortal, n***a, skin made of wax and gold Popeye with the red eyes while I'm puffing on the spinach, ho Breaking any status quo like Marshall Brady fragile nose Went from playing snatch and go to selling n***as' tracks for dough It's the rap camp renegade, syrup in my lemonade New course every time I scrape my dinner plate Malt liquor and Backwoods, smoke fill my lungs and my f**ing veins Drunk textin' a b**h who half naked in someone's center page To keep it, I treats the sh** just like the movie Heat Show down in the f**ing street, fire at the coppers Blocka, blocka, call the f**ing doctor, think it's a opera The way that fat b**h singin' When the mobsters in the building, them alarms start ringin' Yeah, so, n***a [Interlude: A$AP Yams] Ya heard? It's your boy, Yam [?], feel me? I'm feeling like, [?] this b**h We got more b**hes than them twins from Jagged Edge Ya heard? I'm in the wave fortress right now With a cashmere sun visor, eating fried zebra back What you know 'bout that? [Verse 2: Joey Fatts] Ounces in the dresser, trapping under pressure Never been a one for Lexus, 40 leave him on a stretcher Pray to God daily, know he got me through whatever So I kept my ties and went and bought me a Beretta Heater for the cold weather, and snow for the sleigh And want more, then I got a gun store under my bed And if he play with my bread, JFK a n***a head Then it's back to moving Brittany, staying low from K feds My momma say I'm losing my mind because I creep with my nine And now I'm rapping, sh**, I feel like Shyne [?] lawyers for my n***as, try and buy him some time Flip a sack to re up, now I'm back on my grind Young n***as do it all for the revenue Run up in the house with two n***as that ain't scared to shoot Let them cannons loose and send 'em to the sky Then pray for better days ‘cause this the life we live until we die