If it ain't broke I try not to fix
And if not provoked I try not to diss
We might have some hope like a dropping star wish
But we on a slippery slope like an avalanching cliff
I can keep it conventional if you want
But I got more up my sleeve than a magician who got
Four arms, milking this I adore farms
The chick I never sweat her, she stitched together with poor yarn
Needle in a haystack in a foreign barn
Por favor poor flames from the volcano where my brain was
My names up in her mind, her makes ups reapplied
Body language be the picket line
I'm a boss so i see the signs and proceed to redefine
Alcohol at my place, not liqour something to wipe foundation she left on my face
I had my few occasions I can count as a loss
But the juice in my possession now I mix it with sauce
Hey
Side dish, put that where the mic is, dinner time
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
My admission, in your future i see submission
Provided in scenarios in which i shall condition
Clclcl cloud surf like its top gun
Almost like i'm Kenyan think i'm in this for the long run
My perception learn the twists of the profession
So my collection stacks the cheese like chips at a concession
Hey! If you sought to challenge me
You may end up cut in three
Talking to the head man
Number one Headband
I want the dead, presidents
A lot to get, Honcho, Head
Number one headband, Number one Headband
Question question they inquire how do it feel to make power moves
Good as mosquito bites underneath your shower do
Itching for another come up losses just be skin deep
Vomit all my thoughts on paper shit look like some corned beef
No type no type, mean what I write
Pull that broad if she kinda chunky I
Drop wood like a lumberjack if I swing and a miss it'll prolly stump me
I wish I could meet you lovely ladies for lunch
And touch you deeper than some tacos when you dranking too much
I kiss ya ear cuz I care while i'm grabbing your thong
Don't get it twisted you'll be shaking like i'm slamming a gong
Senora
Bounce like golf balls to concrete
Spit to a crowd till nose hairs turn frosty as freezer burn
Flame tracks recording sessions I need an urn
High grade, pay extra to smoke off a decent fern
Up like a drone attached to George Jetson
I'm so cold that when I flow hypothermia sets in
Dick the opposite of lonely if anything it gets left in
Couldn't leave that out I had to stab at every spectrum
Aye as I astound the booth
Young chick squirting thats a fountain of youth
Around the roof height with a level headThat puff puff pass smell like deviled eggs
Senora
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
#1 Headband Video (MV)
Asahene - #1 Headband Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
If it ain't broke I try not to fix
And if not provoked I try not to diss
We might have some hope like a dropping star wish
But we on a slippery slope like an avalanching cliff
I can keep it conventional if you want
But I got more up my sleeve than a magician who got
Four arms, milking this I adore farms
The chick I never sweat her, she stitched together with poor yarn
Needle in a haystack in a foreign barn
Por favor poor flames from the volcano where my brain was
My names up in her mind, her makes ups reapplied
Body language be the picket line
I'm a boss so i see the signs and proceed to redefine
Alcohol at my place, not liqour something to wipe foundation she left on my face
I had my few occasions I can count as a loss
But the juice in my possession now I mix it with sauce
Hey
Side dish, put that where the mic is, dinner time
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
My admission, in your future i see submission
Provided in scenarios in which i shall condition
Clclcl cloud surf like its top gun
Almost like i'm Kenyan think i'm in this for the long run
My perception learn the twists of the profession
So my collection stacks the cheese like chips at a concession
Hey! If you sought to challenge me
You may end up cut in three
Talking to the head man
Number one Headband
I want the dead, presidents
A lot to get, Honcho, Head
Number one headband, Number one Headband
Question question they inquire how do it feel to make power moves
Good as mosquito bites underneath your shower do
Itching for another come up losses just be skin deep
Vomit all my thoughts on paper shit look like some corned beef
No type no type, mean what I write
Pull that broad if she kinda chunky I
Drop wood like a lumberjack if I swing and a miss it'll prolly stump me
I wish I could meet you lovely ladies for lunch
And touch you deeper than some tacos when you dranking too much
I kiss ya ear cuz I care while i'm grabbing your thong
Don't get it twisted you'll be shaking like i'm slamming a gong
Senora
Bounce like golf balls to concrete
Spit to a crowd till nose hairs turn frosty as freezer burn
Flame tracks recording sessions I need an urn
High grade, pay extra to smoke off a decent fern
Up like a drone attached to George Jetson
I'm so cold that when I flow hypothermia sets in
Dick the opposite of lonely if anything it gets left in
Couldn't leave that out I had to stab at every spectrum
Aye as I astound the booth
Young chick squirting thats a fountain of youth
Around the roof height with a level headThat puff puff pass smell like deviled eggs
Senora
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
And if not provoked I try not to diss
We might have some hope like a dropping star wish
But we on a slippery slope like an avalanching cliff
I can keep it conventional if you want
But I got more up my sleeve than a magician who got
Four arms, milking this I adore farms
The chick I never sweat her, she stitched together with poor yarn
Needle in a haystack in a foreign barn
Por favor poor flames from the volcano where my brain was
My names up in her mind, her makes ups reapplied
Body language be the picket line
I'm a boss so i see the signs and proceed to redefine
Alcohol at my place, not liqour something to wipe foundation she left on my face
I had my few occasions I can count as a loss
But the juice in my possession now I mix it with sauce
Hey
Side dish, put that where the mic is, dinner time
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
My admission, in your future i see submission
Provided in scenarios in which i shall condition
Clclcl cloud surf like its top gun
Almost like i'm Kenyan think i'm in this for the long run
My perception learn the twists of the profession
So my collection stacks the cheese like chips at a concession
Hey! If you sought to challenge me
You may end up cut in three
Talking to the head man
Number one Headband
I want the dead, presidents
A lot to get, Honcho, Head
Number one headband, Number one Headband
Question question they inquire how do it feel to make power moves
Good as mosquito bites underneath your shower do
Itching for another come up losses just be skin deep
Vomit all my thoughts on paper shit look like some corned beef
No type no type, mean what I write
Pull that broad if she kinda chunky I
Drop wood like a lumberjack if I swing and a miss it'll prolly stump me
I wish I could meet you lovely ladies for lunch
And touch you deeper than some tacos when you dranking too much
I kiss ya ear cuz I care while i'm grabbing your thong
Don't get it twisted you'll be shaking like i'm slamming a gong
Senora
Bounce like golf balls to concrete
Spit to a crowd till nose hairs turn frosty as freezer burn
Flame tracks recording sessions I need an urn
High grade, pay extra to smoke off a decent fern
Up like a drone attached to George Jetson
I'm so cold that when I flow hypothermia sets in
Dick the opposite of lonely if anything it gets left in
Couldn't leave that out I had to stab at every spectrum
Aye as I astound the booth
Young chick squirting thats a fountain of youth
Around the roof height with a level headThat puff puff pass smell like deviled eggs
Senora
Run tracks like the last second of the audio is the finish line
Writer: Emanuel Asahene
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid