Wicked Days

[Intro: Trent Truce] Yeah, yeah, oh Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray (Yeah, yeah), no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets Preachers pray, no angels can stop all of them bullets, yeah [Chorus: Trent Truce & Roc Marciano] Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days (Ooh, ah, ah), wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked (Uh) [Verse: Roc Marciano & Trent Truce] Catch you reclining on your couch sucker (Uh) Bullets flying through your house structure Fate taken, your white blouse rupture My product come with gunpowder on the album cover They couldn't have snuck it in through customs (Customs) I'm hustling to your customers The Cullinan coconut custard (Oh) You broke muhfuckers I'm blowing your cover, you ain't low, you just a frontrunner (Shit) If rapping wasn't still fun I'd be done with it (Done with this shit) I'm dumb with it not dimwitted We shot it out with niggas for twenty minutes They figure we celebrating independence (Pow, pow, pow, pow) The chain came with the pendent It was written that one day I'd obtain riches (What else) Change the business (Did it) It came late but I ain't tripping (Uh) I'm dripping I'm wearing water this is liquid (Oh) I'm rocking lizard The skin on the kicks is Hillary Clinton The A McQueens is Queen Elizabeth The denim was smelling like teen spirit (Ooh) That means it's cheba scented Is he Dominic, uh I'm so nice on the mic it's working against me It still couldn't prevent me from leaving shells up in Givenchy empty (Uh-huh) The white Bentley is Christie Brinkley (Uh) I'm in love with the benjis, I'm getting clingy (Ooh) Maybe I'm being stingy I went platinum on the Rollie, the APs is trendy We got the industry in a frenzy The MP glide through the city like a frisbee (Shoo) These feel like scenes written by Guy Ritchie Fired the blicky The op dropped a bottle of whisky I was watching through binoculars, shot the pussy I feel like James Bond in Octopussy (Yeah) [Interlude: Trent Truce] Yeah, yeah, oh Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah [Chorus: Trent Truce] Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked Wicked days, wicked days, wicked