BOMBA

[Intro]
Which boy waan bloodclaat dead?
(Yo, Cochise, a weh dem a say?)

[Chorus]
A weh di bombo?
Which boy waan dead? A weh di bombo?
Gunshot chop leg, a weh di bombo?

[Verse 1]
I ain't playin' fair, I don't care, you get slumbered
Huh, bae, I'm lit, super lit, weh di bombo?
How the hell you say you makin' money? Weh di bombo? (Yeah, uh-huh)
Where the hell? What you on? A weh di bombo? (Yeah)
Claat, yeah, yeah, we outside, yeah, yeah (Yeah)
I'm in here, yeah, yeah, for the vibe, yeah, yeah (Yeah)
I got bags, took the cash out the ride, yeah, yeah (Yeah)
Told this bitch, "Hop outside, hop in the ride," yeah, yeah (Yeah)
I'm in this bitch, whole lotta bricks, all in my ride, yeah, yeah (Yeah)
Ain't no switch on this blick, but it's a buy, yeah, yeah (Yeah)
You ain't do it, why the hell would you try? Yeah, yeah (Yeah)
You ain't do it, why the hell would you try? Yeah, yeah (Yeah)
Say him waan smoke so we kill him with di cancer
Push up with di pole like a bloodclaat dancer (Yeah)
New York with a knife like Lanza (Yeah)
Blood get spilled like a rassclaat Fanta (Yeah)
Bae, I'm getting bread, I'm talking toastie (Yeah)
She gon' come and eat it for some groceries (Yeah)
When you done with me then hit that hit broski (Yeah)
When you done with me then hit that hit broski (Yeah)
(Yo, Cochise, a weh dem a say?)

[Chorus]
A weh di bombo?
Which boy waan dead? A weh di bombo?
Gunshot chop leg, a weh di bombo?
Gunshot chop leg, a weh di— (Bullet)

[Verse 2]
Yeah, and my money fat (Fat)
And her coochie fat as hell, you see it from the back (Yeah)
And my Glock is fat as hell, it come cost a couple racks (What?)
G-O-D, He on my side, I keep him on my back
Which boy waan bloodclaat—