Avant-garde 2017

[Letra de "Avant-garde 2017" ft. Ill Quentin]

[Intro: Ill Quentin]
Ey, ey-ey-ey-ey-ey-ey (Eh-eh)
Quentin (Quen-Quen-Quen')
Quentin, Quentin, Quentin

[Verso 1: Ill Quentin]
I left some big troubles back in my big city (What?)
Because I want a bank account and on it six digits (Ey, ey)
I left a big city back 'cause they wanted kill me
The put a gun in my forehead but it's not trippin' (Yah, yah, yah)
And I'm still thirsty
They trynna drink my shit, bet they can't keep it (Wah, wah, wah, wah)
I don't play, I'm goin' fall, one go to thirds
You have to suck my dick if you want millies
You must be fuckin' numb if you can feel it (Prr)
Nado contra la corriente, solo sigo el plan (What?)
Every fuckin' verse spits like Tommy Gun (Ey, ey)
Y si ando to' de Tommy tu bi' es mi fan (Wah, wah)
Estoy sonando crudo y no sueno como Wu-Tang (Nah)
Shout-out on my city, shout-out to my crew (What?)
What you gonna do when we found you? (Paw)
Noche de Buenos Aires and I knock her (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Drinkin', poppin' pills, fillin' on my cup (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Son's up, daddy called, avant-garde (Ey)
You want us to believe in a black card? (Ey)
You want us to believe in your new car?
You bi' as well might fit in a new bar (Wah, ey, ey)
Don't try to get between me and my desire (Ey, ey, ey, ey; yah)
You want some money but I don't see you tryin' (Nah, ey, ey)

[Verso 2: Elijah Parrish]
Call out when are bricks (Ey)
[?] (Ey, ey)
I'm goin' on a 'Rari, but [?] (Eh)
See what's hidin' in the backpack (Oh)
Shout-out on my city, shout-out to my crew
No, I'm not brave, hell, lot to do (Hell to do)
I'm not afraid, I'm a ride it (Ey)
Worst signature, hide it (Ey, ey)
Got the money, got 'em versus
I got no Versace, I got Bersas (Bersas, Bersas, Bersas)
Don't fuck on me, I'm a murderer
A death will be part of the served (Ey)
Bae, I fuckin' strong in the business (Business)
Listen my flow, it's defeatness (Defeatness)
Maining level like an icon (Icon)
Feel like I'm gettin' psycho (Ey)
Killin' lashes, strippers-strippers (Ey)
Bad bitches, less strippers (Ey-ey)
I don't even lay, I'm a tripper (Ey)
I'm a bur, not a mixer
Slow dance, slow dance (Wah)
Damn, bitches know who I am (So what?)
I don't remember don't fuck his name (Say what?)
You gon' see me runnin' on the lane (Ey)
Stayin' stress, last too short (Ey)
I just want it for my passport (Passport)
No balls on my freelance (Ey)
Come fuck with me, you got no chance (No chance, no chance)
This shit, man, I'm inspired (Okey, okey)
I know it's flyin' but I'm higher
You can't be settle from the fire (Ey)
The shots on like Bobby Maguire