Germ & Shakewell – Houston Hangover Lyrics

Houston Hangover Lyrics by Germ & Shakewell

[Intro: Germ]
It’s a bird, it’s a— uh, uh

[Chorus: Germ]
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a stray, nigga, duck
Waddle when I walk, my pockets fallin’, come pick Benji up
Poppin’ shit like soda, light ’em up, they ass ain’t had enough
Budapest, I’m havin’ motion, I can teach you how to stunt
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a stray, nigga, duck
Waddle when I walk, my pockets fallin’, come pick Benji up
Poppin’ shit like soda, light ’em up, they ass ain’t had enough
Budapest, I’m havin’ motion, I can teach you how to stunt

[Verse 1: Shakewell]
It’s a goon, it’s a Shake, Mr. walk up, walk ’em down (Pop, pop, pop)
Got a broom, it’s a Drac’, come and sweep up your whole town (Oh, no, no)
Got more blues than a lake and I take ’em, bust ’em down
Now my nose got more holes, time to pull the Reynolds out (Pop out, sip)
Type to shank, we don’t wrеstle, pinky cost more than your crib (Oh, no, oh, no)
TBH a condo, call up Carlos, we gon’ sеnd the blitz (Oh, yeah, we did)
Heard you keep on buyin’ buttons, but you scared to drop some shit (To drop some shit)
I was raised a demon, findin’ Jesus, had to call up Fitz (I’m callin’ Fitz)
Big carnal Guillermo, don’t make me call up Mexico
Know gorillas in the mix who’ll stomp you out in shell toes (She-Shell toes)
All it take a quarter brick, send the sidas in a hole
Said I’d never say that shit, but it’s time to let ’em know (Sip)

[Chorus: Germ]
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a stray, nigga, duck
Waddle when I walk, my pockets fallin’, come pick Benji up
Poppin’ shit like soda, light ’em up, they ass ain’t had enough
Budapest, I’m havin’ motion, I can teach you how to stunt
It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s a stray, nigga, duck
Waddle when I walk, my pockets fallin’, come pick Benji up
Poppin’ shit like soda, light ’em up, they ass ain’t had enough
Budapest, I’m havin’ motion, I can teach you how to stunt

[Verse 2: Germ]
You sorry fuck, I’m high off Wocky slush, Shameless, they can’t fuck with us
Watch me count it up, my pockets double-stuffed just like your slut
Uh, Rollie on my arm, out in Milan, still rollin’ blunts
I do all my own stunts, I give no fucks, can’t get a hold of me
I’m in and out of ovaries, I think they controlling me
There must be more to see, Cartier frames on my face I copped overseas
Niggas is dead to me, flies everywhere, I must be some shit to see
Dead dudes on me, I’m feelin’ like Curren$y, who tryin’ to smoke with me? (Badshit)

[Outro: Germ]
That’s cool, man