Aavíe - Crown Viks Lyrics

Take you a second to let it breathe
Heart racing like amphetamine
Let the beat rock through the system
This a kitchen, sous-chef with the recipe
Too deaf from the 808 sound
Tuned up with a B and that crown
Bass jump, yeah, we in the crown
Not Vic, but Elizabeth when I OD to the sounds
I met the bitch when she 21
At 24, she a savage, aye
That was in 20, I'd run and gun
Now I'm 20, I'm still here and chasing a casket
Big blunts that I chase with the acid
Got me moving erratic
Big gun I'ma tuck in elastic
If we moving erratic
I'm so dolo in this shit
Not solo, roll up with my babe-bae aye
Some Coca-Cola and a spliff
I'm balling with Jack, I'ma spike the shit
Okay, pinky ring golden, it carry inscription
Like vocals on composition from the composition
F*ck the competition, they don't see the vision
They ain't seeing vzn, that's a Sia symptom
I make for a hard description
Please don't make your mama miss you
If you bearing witness to it
Bitch, then you is a part-i-picant
That include everybody who want the smoke
And a couple niggas who I know that they don't
Why you flaunt 'bout that mu'f*ckin' pistol tote
If I'm out of body I get 'em ghost
Take you a second to let it breathe
Heart racing like amphetamine
Let the beat rock through the systems
This a kitchen sous-chef with the recipe
Too deaf from the 808 sound
Tuned up with a B and that crown
Bass jump, yeah, we in the crown
Not Vic, but Elizabeth when I
Take you a second to let it breathe
Heart racing like amphetamine
Let the beat rock through the systems
This a kitchen sous-chef with the recipe
To deaf from the 808 sound
Tuned up with a B and that crown
Bass jump, yeah, we in the crown
Not Vic, but Elizabeth when I OD to the sounds
On one way too often
But it's not no white, not no Charleston
She a baddie, she from Harlem
Me and the bro make decisions like Parliament
Armament
When you chill with a ting
Why's that
Cause I know that bag need a guardian
Pop it open, make it sing
Then I'm touching down like LaGuardia
Got it, yeah, yeah, I got it up
Top chef, got me chopping up dubs
Twenty thousand up
F*ck it and pop me a bub
Even so, seeming even so
See this bag, you seeing smoke
See no Schertz
But I wanna Cibolo
Okay
I need a visa though
A bih with a visa go
Overseas to a different coast
I fly her like Peter Pan
When she on the dust and she seem to float
See em out, once they f*ck
And they see the ghost
I grew up out on Cedar Cliff
So you know that I seen the shit
You can see that it's seeming so
Take you a second to let it breathe
Heart racing like amphetamine
Let the beat rock through the systems
This a kitchen sous-chef with the recipe
To deaf from the 808 sound
Tuned up with a B and that crown
Bass jump, yeah, we in the crown
Not Vic, but Elizabeth when I OD to the sounds