Spirit Bomb [Remix]

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Drifter

Drifter is a musical artist known for their distinctive style and captivating performances. They have gained a loyal fan base with their unique blend of genres and memorable lyrics. Drifter's music often combines elements of pop, rock, and electronic influences, creating a sound that is both energetic and heartfelt. Their passionate vocals and infectious melodies leave a lasting impression on listeners. Drifter has been praised for their ability to connect with audiences in a deep and personal way through their music. more »

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Ladies and gentlemen

It's time to test the spirit bomb

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)
Whip and flex (whip 'em)
Brick phone in my right hand (brrt, brrt)
Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)
Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)
Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)
You niggas on a long ting (long niggas)
But I get it gone (trap)

Walk in the rave, frown on my face
Drink in my hand, hand in my pouch
Man talk greaze, man look left, look right
Look straight to a bang in the mouth
Man talk greaze, man see man in the flesh
Man's saying, "Please just dead it"
Man talk greaze in the whip, come out the car
Coming like Niko Bellic
Dickhead
I phone up like we want a pizza
A flip blade or a sweetener heater
To touch more skin than Mia Khalifa
Man said, "Come 'round the corner," you're joking
Man tryna talk like he's touching us
Man best run when you see man come
Son, you can get a tiger, tiger, tiger

It's a mad ting, AJ from the L-L with the hand ting
Dust man down with the world war scram ting
Girl's tryna free her pum pum on a fan ting
Ten toes up, caught man, he was panting
Prs gonna paid for a Phantom
And a home gym in a hillside mansion
My bars make man take action
Said they wanna ban my tunes like Banton
But they can't ban me, I'll ban them (nah, yeah)
No, they can't tan me, man'll just tan them (wah? Yeah)
Raised in the south just like FT (FT)
Now I went and got FT on an anthem
Take man's baby mum to that bando (that trap)
You want her back? Better give me that ransom
Leg up by the stove when I chef that bomb ting
Spread up the kitty, drip, drip, I'm handsome (and it's the)

Gun show, I dropped the bomb, yeah
Know when I come through, man are gonna lose their spirit
Ain't got that blade? Then man have got the scissors
Chef man, man'll get dead up in a minute
Man a get served up like chicken nuggets with the ketchup
Know that the 'bré ain't kidding
Think that I'm joking 'cause I look young?
On my life, I'll make man swim with the fishes

Wait, let me hit my spliff
One sec, let me sip my drink
Heard some man wanna sink my ship
Man'll get wetted up like kitchen sink
Hide your wife, I'll pimp this chick
Heard nuff gyal wanna drink my kids
Hide your chain when you're in these bits
Sick flow from time and I've been I'll since
Got a court case that's pending, damn
Got a gold chain, no pendants, fam
Shoutout Nike, seeding the kicks
I'm feeling the kicks like pregnant gyal
Just got a pack sent in from 'Dam
Man do licks in a rented van
Shut down shop, cut down crop
Move that quick, let me count that guap, what?

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)
Whip and flex (whip 'em)
Brick phone in my right hand (brrt, brrt)
Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)
Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)
Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)
You niggas on a long ting (long niggas) (look)
But I get it gone (trap) (uh)

Came home with some brand new garms
And my mum asking me how I get money
Man's got the pony fur on my shoe
Now people are moving funny
I can't comprehend, when I touch mic
Every beat that man hits get duppy
I'm a top boy like Sully
Your girl wanna suck on my cock like dummy
Ain't got a tool in my pouch
But I've got two bags and a phone full of digits, fam
Don't get it twisted, fam
Mysterious vibes in the Mystic clan
Got a peng ting in my crib right now
And she chef up the bomb ting, easy, straight
Man's on my own 'til you see me, mate
Only Ps we chase

Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah
Bare man talking 'bout cheffing and they don't whip (liars)
Talk about their nizzy and coke 'cause they clap and dip (bap, bap)
Gun slap, I don't wanna look like you
I wanna break bread with the strip
That's why you might catch me and Cads in the cut like slit
And I've got my '08 swag again
Undercover, might spend a few bags on them
If I kill a career, get an ambulance
But don't think you're surviving (nah)
Aim for the kill and my man's riding
Can't see dem man cah they're hiding
Got it on me now in the studio, violent
Deep blue sea, avoiding Trident

Look, know the ropes or get tied up
Badman? Tell him he's not
Tell him he's washed, I was out ducking from the feds
In the rucksack, had a likkle box
F*ck what it cost, got it for the low like limbo
True say, I know a couple plugs, man are tuned in
Trap line booming
True say all the cats need grooming, trust me
Cah man were never eating right, had bare lumps in that gravy (yeah)
Bare lumps in that custard
Think hotdogs without buns, without no mustard (uh-huh)
Cah manaman were grinding (yeah, yeah)
Really out here grinding
Swear I had to put time in
Dem man dere never put time in

Yeah, spirit bomb
I thought the feds weren't on my case
But then I went jail 'cause I read it wrong
Live in the studio, making tunes
But deep in the trap where I'm heading from
Got a good heart, fell in wrong
No throwaway lines 'til I'm singing songs
I'm a whole brick, you're a scented bong
Yeah, Capo
C-a-p-o, see more than a Z
Could've shot me a fed, that's a war on my head
Paranoid when it bangs, hands over the cells
Yeah, I've got the cats all safe
Cah me, I don't deal with the random sales
How you in the trap 24?
When I look at my phone, you're online just bantering girls (Lee)

They know my ting be proper (yeah)
Jugg house, my trap is proper (yeah)
10/10, my ting come proper
Brown ones, my bitch look proper
Ring bells, my name is proper
No shorts, my cats come proper
Shoebox, my stack looks proper
Tell man I do this proper (I do this proper)
Brick phone in my right hand (right hand)
Man have got 'nuff cats on my Nokia
Don't move naughty, male with the .40
That ting sounds like a chopper (doot-doot)
Man know me, can't lack in the rave (nah)
Bro, that's word to the scar on my face (true)
Brick in the whip, man caught man a chain
Aj dealt like bro from the Lane

In the trap with the press (trap, trap)
Whip and flex (whip 'em)
Brick phone in my right hand (brrt, brrt)
Pyrex in my left (chef, chef)
Chef up the bomb ting (chef, chef, chef)
Spirit Bomb (bomb, bomb)
You niggas on a long ting (long niggas)
But I get it gone (trap)

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