Correction Lyrics Bora Bora Aura by ILL BILL

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Lyrics

Mr Briganti, there's a problem with Mr Kleinfelt
What kinda problem?
He's in the bathroom, f**kin' Stef! (Hahaha)
So what's the problem? Good for him!
Oh! Oh! Oh!
Yeaah! We back motherf**ker!
Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!
Bill, talk to ‘em!

Take your Jesus piece (truck) jewels
Gucci links, my shooters blaze through
But they don’t give a f**k who they hit
The mop long like the scope on a street sweeper
With the robe of the Grim Reaper
Gorilla Pimp Preacher spits ether
Revolvеr (twirler) flash like a cursed murdеr (cast)
This happen when murder raps converge with Lysergic tabs
A Brand They Can Trust, doing something satanic on dust
And they don’t pay the ransom they f**ked
Give me [???]
Spray chrome on plain clothes
Say hoes with shotgun shells the size of eggrolls
Minus the duck sauce
Get your face sliced the f**k off
Like it was in the yard up north, tryin’ to pop off
Philly [??] a problem doin’ molly in Cabo
Smoke pot with McConaughey, [bauding] on baubles
flying tomahawks, cyborgs
The skies is blinding with [?? dogs] and fiery flyin’ swords

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