Bukayo Saka

Lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, yeah, yeah Lapgan (we're bar out) Manshu, yeah (we're bar out) [Verse] Hollywood Heems, I live a wild life son Hemi touch more birds than the wild life fund I green light that red light like 1, 2, 3 I see your moves before you do, like how Sun Tzu see So all you hear is blacka blacka, blacka blacka If the rabbit cook for 24 hours at Dhamaka I'm with my Jewish friends, Russ and Daughters for the latke Only right wing I acknowledge is Bukayo Saka Sprinkle the cumin in my Hunan, I'm a goated human Sliding how I'm moving, yo I'm a shoo-in' I'm with your boo and, you get boo'd at I'm like a saint when I spit, they asking who that So don't say shit, you know you best start being silent I roll with nihilists and some stylists who get violent Lamb ragu out in Long Island and wе wildin' Got Hindu jewelers on dеck for all my diamonds Gold chains and taco meat like carne asada Kill a cop and dip to Cuba, I'm in Oda like Assata I'm with Eric Estrada, us sonatas and some Prada Whole enchilada, kill my cousin for the throne like in the Mahabharata Mahabharat, I'm asking where the freaks at I roll around with two glizzies like I'm Slavoj Zizek I pull up with blades, big ones, like the Sikhs had Your bars weak, I peep that and I critique that Where your mystique at? I eat squab with my mob I'm at a college in Punjab, the casanova of the quad, the heartthrob I'm in my Saab, watching Les Miserables I'm a kebab snob, you fuck around and get robbed, uh I got money out the wazoo, that's word to kajoo Piece together modules of the verse because I got to Watch me bag a princess like I'm Dodi Fayed My code is lyin', we only riot 'til it's holy Zion Get the backroom at the restaurant because I'm wholly private I think I'm the shit but I admit I'm grossly biased You use my name for clout, so on sight for that bozo I ball like Ray for Alston in the 90s at Cardozo I got belts in every color like I run a dojo I'm a big dawg, you Toto, you only so-so I put dollars, rupees and pounds up in my coffer Sippin' oolong out the cup with the saucer The best author Fuck around, I disappear you like Hoffa A-symmetric, plongé, leather from Stauffer Suit from Campagna, third-genny artisans They want that shit that's hard again They glad I'm makin' art again Pull my face card again and Prada for the cardigan Asafoetida (What's that?) Asafoetida (What is it in Hindi?) Hing