Stunna 4 Vegas – BMF (ft. Icewear Vezzo) (Audio, Lyrics, Video)

Date 2022-06-07

Category Foreign Music Download, Lyrics, Lyrics Video, Music Video, New Music

Stunna 4 Vegas drops the music video for the Icewear Vezzo-featured, d.a. got that dope-produced piece of new music – “BMF”. Listen, stream, read the lyrics, buy the song.

Stunna 4 Vegas Bmf

Stunna 4 Vegas Bmf

Stunna 4 Vegas – BMF (ft. Icewear Vezzo) (prod. d.a. got that dope)

Lyric Video

Watch Video

Lyrics

[Intro: Stunna 4 Vegas]
(d.a. got that dope)
This shit like BMF
But I’m YRB in here

[Chorus: Stunna 4 Vegas]
I jump out, diamonds hit, temper tantrum, throw a fit (Hit, hit, hit)
Move wrong, I let this Draco spit (Bah), take this heart (Bah), blow a kiss
Uh-huh, this shit like BMF, we ain’t the ones you should go against (Nigga, I’m YRB)
I get shit out of here (Blatt), you can’t even duck if I blow the switch (Get ’em out of here)
Uh, we came with sticks like a Chinese dish
We score like “Swish” so don’t try me, bitch (Huh)
Two Glock twins, look like Siamese twins (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
They know they fucked up when they let me in (They fucked up)
I need a hunnid K times ten (Racks)
My lil’ brother got booked for an M
He went to bid soon as I went big
When he touch, I got paper for him

[Verse 1: Stunna 4 Vegas]
I told the bros I’ll make it for them (I’ll make it for ’em)
Love to flex like I stay at the gym (I love to—)
Ain’t lost a soul, they ain’t make an attempt (Uh, no)
Nigga play and he taking a trip (Fuck)
Nigga, I won’t slip
I get ’em dipped, I got too much chip
I down a drink, I own too much sip
Uh, I get him stank, he got too much lip (That nigga stank)
Yeah, she let me fuck, she got too much ass in the back (Where you goin’, bitch?)
When we spot an opp, I bet he have an asthma attack (Get your bitch ass down, nigga)
Uh, she a freak, she like to ride with me with her head in my lap (Eat, eat, eat)
I put shit in motion like the quarterback, I was that guy before I had a sack (Racks)
Uh, these niggas washed like a laundromat (Washed)
Talking ’bout a hundred shots, bitch, we brought more than that (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
He love to woof on that internet ’til we talk about cash, he ignoring that
Big F&N make him back up, I been broke before but I ain’t going back (Uh-uh)
My lil’ bros love to act up (Gang), they hit his block in a stolo ‘Cat (There you go, there you go)

[Chorus: Stunna 4 Vegas & Icewear Vezzo]
I jump out, diamonds hit, temper tantrum, throw a fit (Hit, hit, hit)
Move wrong, I let this Draco spit (Bah), take this heart (Bah), blow a kiss
Uh-huh, this shit like BMF, we ain’t the ones you should go against (Nigga, I’m YRB)
I get shit out of here (Blatt), you can’t even duck if I blow the switch (Get ’em out of here)
Uh, we came with sticks like a Chinese dish
We score like “Swish” so don’t try me, bitch (Huh)
Two Glock twins, look like Siamese twins (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
They know they fucked up when they let me in (They fucked up)
I need a hunnid K times ten (Racks, phew)
My lil’ brother got booked for an M (Phew)
He went to bid soon as I went big (Yeah, Drank God)
When he touch, I got paper for him (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Icewear Vezzo]
Goofy-ass nigga want smoke, run past
We blow shit, got F&N in my coat (Bah, bah, bah)
Slidin’, opps be hidin’ (Yeah, yeah), pull up to the crib where Dre shoot shit through the door
Real drank man, two hunnid on the Patek, off lean, lil’ nigga whole wrist full of snow
Brick full of coke (Yeah), sell pills and the K got a Glock 19 with a switch and a scope
Tweak off a bar (Hmm), Lambo’ fast, them 7.62s don’t leap in the car (Skrrt)
Chopper on the seat (Yeah), flex like Meech, get shot in the street if you think you Lamar (Pussy)
Fuck them niggas, bitch-ass sack, we don’t lack at no shows, snuck heat in the party
Chain so bright (Yeah), shine like a light, nigga close your eyes, niggas thinking it’s dark
Me and young Stunna, we up countin’ racks, countin’ hunnids (Why racks?)
AR-15 like thunder (Bah, bah), traphouse jumping (What?)
I be in the crack house pumping, big Glock, they ain’t eating off nothing
Whole watch froze (Yeah), slide through the six, thirty rounds in the clip that a whole block totin’ (That a whole hood—)
These hoes be choosin’ (Hmm), thinking we going, you stupid
Leave a nigga whole drop folded, nigga (Pussy)

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