Lyrics Famalam - JME

Famalam

Outside parked up next to the curb
I’ve got a matte black souped up turbs
Full tank, private plate
Race and win, wheels and rims
I used to cotch in Tatum’s and Pimm’s
Now I jam in a recliner ting
Yeah, bad boy whip
Soon I’m gonna have a bad boy yard
I spit deep lyrics from my bad boy lip
And I get all my P from grime, hard
What?
Say something, say something
I big up my chest, I say I’m the best
'Cause man’s been doing this ting from way back
When I used to wear two-string vests
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s and a gram
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s and a gram
Deep bass, bad boy bars
Lights and mics, crowds and hype
Skep’s on the left, Frisco’s on the right
Trust me, you don’t wanna fight
Full squad, big man ting
Champs and glass, triple A pass
Step onstage and mashup the dance
One hand in the air like you’re in class
Yeah, Boy Better Know
Soon, I’m gonna have a whole next ting
Businessman with a bad boy flow
And I get all my P from grime, ch-ching
Safe, speak up, speak up
I big up my chest, I say I’m the best
'Cause man’s been doing this ting from
I used to play Street Fighter 2 on the SNES
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s and a gram
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s and a gram
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s and a gram
Trust me, famalam
Mash up the whole party when I land
Don’t try come clash me badderman
You must’ve had Jack D’s
OK, you wanna look in my boat?
Fine
You’re the reason I wrote this rhyme
Yo, man are baders, man are badman
Man, I ain’t seen a five-pound note in time
Yo, you can’t diss a friend of mine
Trust me, you don’t wanna cross this line
Don’t think you can stand in the background of the video
Ad-libbing next man’s rhyme
Do you think I’m dumb?
Try to boy me?
Nah, that can’t run
Yo, you’re lucky, the old Jme
Bun out your chest like Jamaican rum
'Cause you got your name on your Nike Air Dunks
'Cause you got your name on your Air Force Ones
You could have your name on your Reebok pumps
Don’t think you could ever diss man once, serious