Romil - IWB lyrics

[Verse 1: Kevin Abstract] Internet weird boy go and close your laptop Bet your friends that [?] Imagine if your cousin never got shot Imagine if shots never got thrown I'm alumni looking for a home All these motherf**ers looking for a clone And I'm searching for the purpose I'm the furthest thing from worthless I'm the furthest thing from perfect' I just thought I'd let y'all know Barely touched the surface My cousin back in the morning My good god done closed the curtains I just sold my f**ing soul Who done let y'all in, my veins, still crawling Bangin' on that, slangin' all that Made to fall back, made to sit back My daze of me up in that bush, no more Remember when I wanna ride, let's go Little black boy [?] Glock, let's go Big bro had the whole block on froze All pink everything, I think I'm Cam'ron Playing Bloody Mary, keep my lamp on Pull up Chevy truck, with the [?] And sing Yellow song See my homie here but tomorrow, yeah they not around That's something I know, but I won't stand my f**ing ground Lose my world, my mind, all the time, I'm a f**ing child [Verse 2: Matt Champion] Rellas is drippin' like ooh Fingertip grippin' that ooh Find me on top of the world f** you right under the moon b**h speaking French on the phone, brr Colors of my body looking vibrant I got a thotty on vibrate She hit me on the phone, no vibrate, lightweight [?] No socks rolled up [?] Nike's Eyelids low, skirt in the clouds Better f** her on the driveway, top on the highway Oh my god, don't come round here The sun round here, the fun round here Oh my god, what the f** you do with it Try to come through with it Baby, [?] with it Oh my god, oh my god [Verse 3: Ameer Vann] Rock star with the top down, on my sixth shot call me Mike Brown Wear the name like a thorn crown, let go and see the white now Little boy from the H-town, raised in the sewers in the city of the syrup Skype call to Europe like brrt Money come fast when you born like this With that flow so crisp, n***a been lit since high school Where I learn to trap with them white dudes, what that white do, n***a you don't know I done paid my dues, I don't f** with you, I wear Marvin Blackman Tennis shoes And all year round, that mink coat to match and wood on the dash of my candy lac All this sh** I ain't supposed to have with my selfish a**, I've been living lavish Hair so big that the roof is absent, chains so big that my neck be cracking Whip so slick that I slip through traffic, same old sh** from when they brought me here And the smokes too thick to see my fate is clear, I might disappear and then reappear Because I'm mostly smoke, I'm always dope, never going broke and never did before Doing pretty good far as geniuses go, know they want thug but they needed some more Most know about slim, they don't know about ro' They don't know about chrome, they don't know about po' They don't know about the screw, they don't know about the mo' 2813308004 hit Mike Jones up on the low, because Mike Jones about to blow