Dive into Blvck Svm's world of stylish confidence and sharp wordplay. In this track, he navigates through themes of success and perseverance, drawing vivid imagery from sports and luxury. He likens his readiness and precision to that of a seasoned athlete, all while showcasing his versatile flow. There's a palpable sense of hustle, from the booming trap life to the relentless chase for greater achievements. Svm slyly jabs at his doubters, confident that they can't match his level. The lyrics ooze a mix of cultural savvy and personal flair, threading through life's finer aspects and aspirations. And despite acknowledging life's unpredictabilities, he envisions an elegant exit, wrapped in Valentino velvet, as a symbol of the legacy he's building. It's as much about cherishing the now as it is about ensuring his impact lasts.
peja
Lyrics
Gang smoking on that summer cicada
Shooter vibing on the wing, 16 on his back
Clip loaded like Peja
My trap booming, phone sound like a pager
I just got another offer but it's nothing too major
The new Rolly same color as the fruits of my labor
My white friends overwhelmed, they can't handle the flavors
They complimenting the chef but he too busy to savor
He been throwing down in the kitchen, he gon get to em later
My haters in the Olympics for the mental gymnastics
Gold metal on my teeth, a South Florida classic
Sprinting to the spinach, only a Jamaican got the quickness to track it
Fendi runners burning holes in the package
My style, niggas could jack it
I ain't worried cuz they not in my bracket
Prepping for winter, I just came up on some Stone Island jackets
I hear a beat and think of 47 ways to attack it
If it's encrypted I just pick the flow I know is gon crack it
Clever tactic, I sharpen it with continuous practice
Once it turned to a habit is when I started to stack it
I don't plan on dying young but when I'm ready to pack it
I need Valentino velvet when they lining my casket
The material matching the cake
Basquiat brainchildren wrap the walls at the wake
Like puff pastry on a Wellington steak
Glue my foot up on the gas, I ain't got time for no brakes
Pray I don't see no jakes
Gang smoking on that summer cicada
Shooter vibing on the wing, 16 on his back
Clip loaded like Peja
My trap booming, phone sound like a pager
I just got another offer but it's nothing too major
The new Rolly same color as the fruits of my labor
My white friends overwhelmed, they can't handle the flavors
They complimenting the chef but he too busy to savor
He been throwing down in the kitchen, he gon get to em later
My haters in the Olympics for the mental gymnastics
Gold metal on my teeth, a South Florida classic
Sprinting to the spinach, only a Jamaican got the quickness to track it
Fendi runners burning holes in the package
My style, niggas could jack it
I ain't worried cuz they not in my bracket
Prepping for winter, I just came up on some Stone Island jackets
I hear a beat and think of 47 ways to attack it
If it's encrypted I just pick the flow I know is gon crack it
Clever tactic, I sharpen it with continuous practice
Once it turned to a habit is when I started to stack it
I don't plan on dying young but when I'm ready to pack it
I need Valentino velvet when they lining my casket
The material matching the cake
Basquiat brainchildren wrap the walls at the wake
Like puff pastry on a Wellington steak
Glue my foot up on the gas, I ain't got time for no brakes
Pray I don't see no jakes
Writer(s): Benjamin Glover, Dyshod Moro
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Sentric Music
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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