ST. PERCY

Trap, West Coast, Alternative R&B, Experimental, R&B, Soul, Alternative Pop, Pop, Alternative, Rap

### Songwriter(s)

Hurricane Chris, Merlyn Wood, bearface, Jabari Manwa, Romil Hemnani, Kevin Abstract, Matt Champion & Dom McLennon

### Producer(s)

Jabari Manwa & Romil Hemnani

**ST. PERCY** is the fifth track from BROCKHAMPTON's fifth studio album GINGER.

## Lyrics

**[Verse 1: Kevin Abstract]**

I'm the same one you seen in the classroom, ayy

We was chillin' in the stall makin' crowds move, ayy

Young K still posted in the A like a Brave

No chain ya boys got would make my neck fuckin' bang

Hangin' on your speaker, bangin' on your speaker, baby (Ayy)

Need to find a reason to make you believe me, baby (Ayy, ayy)

Young NOLA, PlayStation controlla (Ayy, ayy)

Send 'em just to get 'em, I hit 'em when it is over (Ayy)

Roll over, yo soldier, no coaster

I told ya I'm back whenever the storm is over

Send it back if them boys wanna feel the clover

No closure, never reply to faux orders

My n\*gga so sculptured, such a short quota (Ayy, ayy)

Police pull up on me, boy, I kept that cold shoulder (Ayy, ayy)

Cup runneth over for a hunnid orders (Ayy, ayy)

All I got is pennies, still want me to fuckin' flow, bruh (Ayy)

**[Chorus]**

There is no love in the ghetto

Money got it where I just can't let go

There is no love in the ghetto

Money got it where I just can't let go

Ooh-oh-ooh, oh, oh

**[Verse 2: Matt Champion]**

How you do that right there, boo, I'm bamboozled, yeah

Legs go up behind the head like leopard ambushin', huh

Give her space, big ol' drop, call it Grand Canyon, huh

She bust back, blow a fuse out the damn cannon

Circus, olé, okay (Yeah), roly (Woah)

Poly, slide that (Uh), pole, yeah, (Hm) low blow (Ooh)

Not seen like a dodo (No), I skip fall, stay snow globe (Ayy)

Stuck inside the corridor (Ayy), make me go so loco (Ayy)

Major League, I'm Sheen (Uh), call me Wild Thing (Uh)

She got strings all up the neck just like a violin (Ah)

I crave that chada-ching, when that venom sting (Hey)

Eyes turn redder than a motherfuckin' cherry stem

**[Verse 3: Dom McLennon]**

Run up a check, ayy, uh (Run up a check)

Hit 'til I miss, ayy, uh (Hit 'til I miss)

And then keep on hittin'

My niggas ain't quittin', they way too legit, ayy, uh (They way too legit)

Don't get on my list, ayy, uh (Don't get on my list)

I'm from the abyss, ayy, uh (I'm from the abyss)

You sayin' you real

But I watch how you act and I can't be convinced, uh

Smokin' 'em out like a habit

You know we could make it tragic (Ayy)

Money had never made a n\*gga (Ayy)

We holdin' all our money in the mattress (Ayy)

Fire rapid like a savage (Ayy)

Taste is way above your palate (Ayy)

No, I ain't for burying the hatchet (Ayy)

Take a break to pick apart the balance of this madness

**[Verse 4: bearface]**

Uh

You got big boy money like you ready for war

You be talkin' like you really gon' run that though

You be runnin' like the snot drainin' in from your nose

That's that ice cream, sugar, that cocaine throat

And this shit gon' bounce like my shin off your dome

And you know these boys deep, we ain't fittin' in the door

And my dogs, they bark, Michael Vick on fours

Boy, this shit long gone, why you hit my phone? (Whoa!)

**[Bridge]**

See how full it is, homie

See how real it is

Hell no

**[Outro: Merlyn Wood]**

Murder man, murder man

Someone better hold me before this shit gets ugly

Murder man, murder man

Someone better–

Murder man, murder man

Someone better–

Murder man, man

Someone hold me b–, b–, shit gets ug–

Murder man, murder man

Someone better hold me before this shit gets ugly