Bam Bam - The Martinez Brothers

I ain’t have a dollar to my name
Now we vaca in Ibiza, two seater
Señorita grabbing on my chain
Look upon her face, I can tell she enjoy pain
Latin trap, in my own lane
Game stay the same, it’s the players that change
Good artists copy, great artists steal fame
Diamond on top of the ring like a steel cage
To hell with this hell, my clientele order
To be rich or poor, before Al killed Porter
Harlem be the town, Eastern in front of that
I’m getting pussy in the air like a ThunderCat
Thirty thousand feet, one hundred in the safe
Frank Lucas mink, let it drag like a cape
Put my enemies to sleep, show up at they wake
Kill him on his birthday, tell him, “Keep the cake”
Popping Cris like Ray-Ray, just to celebrate
Prey of the jungle, use the crib to meditate
Stomp him with elevens, call him Patent Leather Face
I school teachers, degree in miseducate, what?

Bam bam, be dum, bam
Bam bam, be dum, bam
Bam bam, be dum, bam
Bam bam, be dum

Lyrics added by Thomas B. Watts