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LIMBO - EP

by ILLIE

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1.
"F.Y.P.M." Verse 1: Fuck you pay me, fuck what they think on the label Nigga we ain't signed no paper, make no paper yet need the money, shut the fuck up/ nigga you got me fucked up, middle man told me wait a minute, be gentle man/ label head went ahead and then boxed us, cable man, tryna fock us under the table and I ain't see no paper yet/ Nigga fuck you, I need a check on my mama/ whole lotta commas, gold collar work/ promise,  no drama, Keanu/ making cheese, Damianos/ 90s baby, mama made me fresh up out the CAHSEE/ bops and bottles celebration/ I'm the shit, constipation/ain't coming out with shit , we just droppin legend, heaven/ Jimi Hendrix, chocolate Elvis, Mama help us, pray for Ricky/ he on a case of swisher sweets, drinks, and naked bitches/ think it's safe to say he sinnin/ label bought a wrist that could feed the children/ wear a chain to his ding a Lang, made him swear to make it rain/ gold fangs in his grill day to day/ Money like Anna Mae, what's love got to do with that Benjamin face, po me up a drank, bottles by the case, saki for my Japanese hottie, anime/ We gone be rich on my Mama, eye on the dollar/ it ain't no Ralph though on my collar/ God I need a million dollars HOOK I see you niggas never fuck with us The problem with you niggas You niggas never belong (Repeat 2x) VERSE 2 All the hos like a pageant/ Pray to me like I'm Sabbath/ Black and white, classic Po'd up, we fucked up, Absynth/ Holdin onto my glasses/ These hos believe like magic/ Swear I get it from pappy/ Like miller high life, my life Muhfucka/ Nigga been a monster, caged and I rage in the middle of the function/on stage, hella Jumpin, fists pumped for the kids in the front, middle fingers to the ones not Turnt the fuck up/ Band granted krunk, bass in the trunk, move keys like a trap God, rap Gawd, slap artists wan fuck with us, fuck ya'll, buck buck buck buck buck/ ain't shit to say to y'all niggas, Fuck around and pour the malt liquor/ I been dead, zombie loc/ They don't fuck with us, adios/ Pendleton draped in hater blood Rappers act like they don't know a nigga/ jealous older niggas don't know a nigga in the band, come on man, nigga you seen us ragin/ I been amazing, G's ventilation/ middle aging niggas wanna be mes, imitation/ SK the sacred, I see no limitation/ people see power in a poets communication/ loook, can't get me on a hook/ til all these Muhfucka wan book/ the black band, God gotta plan for us young niggas huh/ HOOK I see you niggas never fuck with us The problem with you niggas You niggas never belong (Repeat 2x)
2.
"Lust" Verse 1: Fuck you think you are? Fuck you think you are? Hand on the money, eye on the money I'm seeing through the dark, take you through the dark In light of who I truly love, maybe you or the drugs Then again, I'm not using right now, so it must be you that I fuck with Oh you so soft when I touch it, you open and fuck with a G off top Give me top off top Love how you love me, you love how I fuck Friend want some, baby don't be blush Get lit, what I do, sip some mo, take a cup of this gin with a hint of this Indo Roll down the window, I am in LIMBO, high as fuck All in my info, drugs on the tongue of a boppin' ass bimbo Ahhh, light a cigarette, roll up a cigarillo, high and her panties wet She silky over sex, strip and drip on the pillow I make her cum correct, she fuck around and crescendo Tell me slow up the tempo, hit it good like I should Make a nigga want it mo, make a nigga lust Po me up Chorus: Baby po' up (po' up) Show me somethin' (show me somethin') Pop one for me Babe come with me (come with me) Baby po' up (po' up) Show me something' (show me somethin') Do some drugs with me Babe cum for me Alternative Hook: Baby I know what you want (you want) Girl I got what you need (you need) Girl I got what you want (you want) Do you see what I see Us 3 Three III (repeat) VERSE 2 You go, you go, you go, meet me in room You know, you know, you know, you could get this D from me Babe wanna let me in it, eyes on the way you with it Drink in the cup I'm sipping, slow grind girl the way you stripping Make a nigga wanna tip you shit Bottle popping vodka, puffing that "lala", rolling, winding, eyeing you Swallow them shots for Rick Kinda talk slick, let a nigga slide them "vic's" to the side and bop that shit Ohhh mami want me to choose, oooh lawdy no rules Take them panties off in the pool, she tsunami wet Chorus: Baby po' up (po' up) Show me somethin' (show me somethin') Pop one for me Babe come with me (come with me) Baby po' up (po' up) Show me something' (show me somethin') Do some drugs with me Babe cum for me
3.
"Maybe" Verse 1: Drunk, since I'm drunk/ lot of energy in this room, bar like a saloon Yeah yeah yeah, hit me with a vodka, blame it on the potion Rollin weed in VIP, I creep, babe eyes so low, she sleep walking Still trying to chill with the real, she bossy What I wanna do when I leave here with you Do drugs, sip something, let me slide on thru,baby Body so honest, wanna lick you up and down darling Would it be wrong to tell yo friend to come along, huh? That's that pressure in this muthafucka Let me make some drinks, I'm Dr. Jekyll in this muthafucka I'ma show you how girl, you wild girls, come in my world Tell me something baby, you willing to get a little crazy? Chorus: Blink, you could miss what you came to get I'll tell you baby, I'm lit, huh Aye, pour up another one Baby maybe I'm drunk huh/ Baby maybe, I'm drunk huh (repeat 8x) Verse 2: Oh, can't remember the last time I didn't pour up Spilling, I'm sipping', I'm lifted, no, I don't go sober (mumbling) I might smash her She live in my lap All the patron got her feeling on my "hmm" Where you going with that? baby sit back Grey goose chilling lets sip in the upper room Polo, no fruit of the loom Take her clothes off, smell perfume Baby turnout to the max, she wanna have sex Ohhh Yeah aye baby hey won't you do this again Got the bottles, you just bring one of your friends Baby just do what you feel/ Chorus: Blink, you could miss what you came to get I'll tell you baby, I'm lit, huh Aye, pour up another one Baby maybe I'm drunk huh/ Baby maybe, I'm drunk huh (repeat 8x)
4.
"Can't Deal" Verse 1: Slip n slide, she wet Beat the pussy up like chuck Norris Nobody round when she go down All she eat is meat that's tyrannosaurus Rachets come party, gimme that rooster in my Rari Hoes naked Molly water flexing Drippin' wet, she sweat when she text a nigga I don't answer, tossing bitches like a bouncer Got money on my mind like these niggas owe me ransom Fuck her so good, she throw a tantrum Rest In Peace to her panties Let a nigga dive in, Michael phelps on a ho Violins playing, killed the pussy slow Yeah dimes on my lap, could say they sittin' on money Pray no more Washington's in my bank account, I'ma keep it one hundred Real nigga Red bone killer, murder niggas, heard bout that llama AK, AR, Uzi, foolies, squirt at them coppers Polo all on my collar, neighborhood just like Gaza Fuck bitches on my tour bus Horsepower in my Porsche You fuck niggas, lame niggas, bang my gang in my grammar I double L I E (ILLIE) black band with the city on the cap Mutha fuck the police Chorus: I'ma get this money, can't deal with you fuck niggas Niggas want the juice, can't deal with you fuck niggas All I see is money, can't deal with you fuck niggas Niggas tell the truth, cant deal, we don't fuck with cha Verse 2: I am the model man, I am the dollar man I get the money like I won the lotto man You can not see me, but I am not hollow man I got the Juice, no, I am not Radames $-K money, bitch Rick the Ruler Boss shit and I live in the Hoovers Rip to my grandma, born with looters 91' baby, not straight out the 80s Turnt up hundred dollar bill in the club maxed "wavy" Holly off a pill, navy seal wet, friend finna flex, hit her with a text Bitch chilly chill, take a sippy sip Gin and juice drinking, my hand on my weapon Her eye on my 9, I'm 187 her High eyes red alert, Dalai Lama Mami so gone off the marijuana Mami so throwed off the vodka bottle Baby just pose, I'm a pop a model Money so long can't count the commas She gone eat this D, she Jeffrey Dahmer Can't box me in, I'm Ali She on my dick, girl, golly She lick me like I'm a lolly, while I'm sipping on that Saki That's my Asian persuasion Praise to my patience (she wavy) All of this money, my niggas 100 Fuckin the game, we keeping em cummin' Keep a small circle, we good as a Funyun My niggas a band, we rage at the function All my niggas killers We don't fuck with you fuck niggas Chorus: I'ma get this money, can't deal with you fuck niggas Niggas want the juice, can't deal with you fuck niggas All I see is money, can't deal with you fuck niggas Niggas tell the truth, cant deal, we don't fuck with cha (Repeat)

about

LIMBO EP - ILLIE

Upcoming 4-member Los Angeles based LIVE hip-hop band/production group; ILLIE releases their first 4 track EP entitled "LIMBO"

LIMBO embodies ILLIE's stance on being caught between musical success &
the sins that come with it. Like all of ILLIE's music; LIMBO bends modern day
hip-hop into hybrid sound spanning over multiple genres.

This work sets the tone for ILLIE's music yet to come.


@ILLIELIFE
www.THEILLIELIFE.com

credits

released February 20, 2014

$K - Vocals
Ryan - Bass
Aaron Matthew - Keys
Cheo - Drums

HYDREAMS - Artwork

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ILLIE Los Angeles, California

ILLIE is a 4 member live hip hop band composed of bass, keys, drums & one rapper. They have developed a unique style of music by taking major elements of everyday hip-hop/rap music and manipulating the norm. Adding melodic phrases combined with the synergism of piano chords, and smooth baselines that span over genres from alternative to rock to EDM. ... more

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