Oliver Francis – Icy Boy lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Cloudboys
Yeah
Uh
Okay

[Verse]
Plottin' and schemin' you know that I'd be on the lock on the product
Plottin' and schemin' you need it you hit me you know it I got it
Sippin' on syrup and soda I'm leanin' and smokin' that ganja
I'd probably go undefeated and send your ass straight to the coffin you know
Blowin' that paper and blowin' that O
Smellin' like dope. (Smellin' like dope)
You ain't talkin' money then you gotta go
Sippin' a four
Ice on my wrist and that ice on my lobes
I'm in the kitchen I beat it I get it I'm whippin' the house to an O

I'm on a whip and I'm smokin' a swisher and I'm fuckin' yo bitch
I'm at the trap and we countin' this money she prolly suckin' a dick
Rollin' a swisher got drank in my cup and that new .45 on my hip
Poppin' these bottles and gettin' this money I swear to God I’m the culprit
Shooters on shooters got bullets on bullets got clips upon clips
Oli be ballin' and all of these hoes, they be callin' me young Richie Rich
They all on my dick
Ice in my earlobe and ice on my wrist
I hit the stage and I hit the stage, boy I’m off the shits
I'm feelin myself
Feelin' like spending a bill on myself
Sippin' on syrup
Spendin' this money, I swear I be feelin' myself
It's killin' my health
My lifestyle is certainly killin' my wealth
I'm movin' this stuff
Gucci and Louis, Ferragamo Belt
My money long
She suck on my dick, I be rippin' the bong
She singin' my song
All of your bitches be singin' along
I gave her the dong
Pull up or run up I'm doin' you wrong
We can't get along
Rollin' that blunt and that gucci be strong


[?]
Airbrush shirt on and a strap nigga

All my trap boys got a pistol on 'em always
Fuckin' with the set, boy you could learn the hard way
I got the fiends, linin' up down the hallway
I be servin' hard, sippin lean like all day

All my trap boys got a pistol on 'em always
Fuckin' with the set, boy you could learn the hard way
I got the fiends linin' up down the hallway
I be servin' hard, sippin lean like all day