Icewear Vezzo – They Can’t FWM (Audio, Lyrics, Video)

Watch the music video for Icewear Vezzo’s new song, “They Can’t FWM.” The piece of new music was produced by Cashout Beats.

Icewear Vezzo They Can’t Fwm

Detroit and Michigan as a whole have cemented their sound in the current landscape of hip-hop. Icewear Vezzo’s remained one of the most consistent rappers out of the bunch, earning praise from his peers, fans, and critics with each of his releases.

All of the success led to his newly inked deal with Quality Control. The deal went down in early August and Vezzo hasn’t shown any signs of slowing down.

Today, the rapper emerged with his latest release, “They Can’t FWM.” His laidback delivery takes center stage over ominous production detailing his rising profile in hip-hop with his signature style of witty wordplay.

Icewear Vezzo – They Can’t FWM (prod. Cashout Beats)

Watch Video

Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah-yeah-yeah
(Cashout, what it do-do-do?)
Ooh
Ooh, wee
Hmm
Phew, phew, huh
Iced Out Records

[Verse 1]
I been turnt, geeked for like two days, so I can’t say much
She gon’ let me fuck ’cause on the way, ho, I can’t pay nothin’
I just bought two Richard’s and one chain, cost like eight some’
Switchin’ lanes, I be state-to-state just like Salomon
A stick on me, bitch, I got that tool, I’m tryna fix some’
Gang members, don’t call me big bro, I ain’t your big brother
On the road, finna catch some plays, it’s like I’m hitchhiking
He switchin’ sides, get that boy some shoes ’cause they be flip-floppin’
Baby, chop up, hangin’ in my tent, no, I got big joggins
Jury dancin’, they pull out they phone just like I’m TikTokin
She a freaky, I pull down my pants, she suck the lint off me
Hit her on the call, she got good brain, yeah, that’s a big noggin
Just for me to walk in and show my chain, I need a fifty (Fifty)
We got yellow wiggin’, Bobby Brown, knew we’re dissin’
I like four leachers, four old neekers, yeah, that’s Niki (Niki)
A show as soon shoot ’em, college girl gon’ show them titties (Phew, titties)

[Chorus]
Hmm, yeah, they can’t fuck with me (They can’t fuck with me)
Hmm, yeah, they can’t fuck with me (Not at all)
Huh, what, they can’t fuck with me (Ooh, fuck with me)
Phew, bitch, they can’t fuck with me (They can’t fuck with me)

[Verse 2]
Money, cars, and hoes, cash and clothes, a lot of Wock’ pints
In the Uris geekin’, I just threw up at the stop light
You know you want my chain, you reach for that, we throwin’ shots, right
Why you postin’ poles all on the ‘net? ‘Cause you the cop type
Light skin, let her eat the meat up, look like BIA (BIA)
Marry cake ass, not Tamera, oh, that’s Tia, huh?
Kinda dog shit, back of the Maybach with my feet up
Flexin’ type, lovin’ basketball, she just got ‘Dida, huh
On a private jet, smokin’ ‘Woods, just rolled a P up
Told them fuck boys hang up they jerseys, nigga, we up
I be walkin’ shit all on my songs, fuck the beat up
I left fifty thousand fly in Truth, that shit expensive (Shit expensive)

[Chorus]
Phew, mmm, yeah, they can’t fuck with me (They can’t fuck with me, they can’t fuck with me)
Hmm, yeah, they can’t fuck with me (They can’t fuck with me, fuck with me)
Huh, what, they can’t fuck with me (Not at all)
Phew, bitch, they can’t fuck with me (They can’t fuck with me, they can’t fuck with me)