Ever wondered what it's like to mix teenage angst, a dash of bravado, and a sprinkle of existential dread into one potent musical cocktail? 🍹 Well, BROCKHAMPTON's got you covered! "1997 DIANA" is an adrenaline-fueled ride through the minds of young rebels who are fed up with empty talk and ready to make their mark. The lyrics bounce between playful disses and introspective musings, all while maintaining that signature swagger. It's a call to action for authenticity in a world full of posers—so stop yapping and start delivering! 🚀
1997 DIANA
Lyrics
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, yay!
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to quit talkin' shit and give us more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to stop talkin' shit and give me more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to quit talkin' shit and give us more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to stop talkin' shit and give me more, more
Kiss the shoulder, hop in the Corolla
These bitches talkin' shit like the bottom of porta-potties
Bright ass yellow teeth, you a shit talker
Gossip, legs movin' like a salsa dancer
Drunk, fallin' out ya car like a flaccid dick
Aww man, Goddamn
What the fuck wrong with ya?
Say it to my face, pussy-ass boy
Need an Altoid for your hot breath
Like a hot mess, pop your biceps
Cue the 'roid rage
I think I got like five more albums inside my mind
This that shit, that do or die, make your grandmama cry
Keep some baggy jeans on me, keep a Billie Jean on me
Got that New Orleans on me, smellin' like a queen to ya
Cu-cu-cucumber lemonade, I need something fresh today
Barber make the texture fade, actin' out like it's charades
Strawberry sweater fleece, baby, gimme somethin' sweet
We don't gotta be discrete, moonwalking between the seats
Hit on that beat and then stop (Ahh!)
Hop on that booty like, who the hell cutie
Like I don't know cootie
My mama ain't raise no bitch ass
Ain't no kiss ass, ain't no
Get the fuck out of my face now [burp]
Get the fuck out of my way now
You are so far off my level
Stop!
In the barber shop with my niggas (ay)
I ain't never soft for my nigga (ay)
I ain't never copy no nigga (ay)
So quit talkin', bitch nigga, (quit talkin', bitch) Ay
Ay, I wanna buy a Jeep
Ay, that's my energy
Trilogy, that's history
Southside, baby, rest in peace
Uh, lordy lordy, testify, yeah
Got explosives in my mind, yeah
Searchin' feelings I can't find, yeah
I'm a ghost because I grind, yeah
Made a deal with Father Time, yeah
Told me, "Find a way to shine", yeah
"I can make you live forever
All you gotta do is dance until you die", yeah
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to quit talkin' shit and give us more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to stop talkin' shit and give me more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to quit talkin' shit and give us more, more
Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit
Need to stop talkin' shit and give me more, more
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, yay!
Writer(s): Ciaran Mcdonald, Clifford Simpson, Dominique Simpson, Jabari Manwarring, Matthew Garrett Champion, Romil Hemnani, Russell Evan Boring
Copyright(s): Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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