LANCEY FOUX


Siccadilly Circus Lyrics

[Intro]
Huh?
(Psyke, psycho, man, it's gotta be psycho)
(Greatness, you know? It's gotta be greatness)
(Can't understand my shit, shit's all crazy)
Run the dough (Sick)
I can't even run the dough (Siccadilly Circus)
(Sick) I don't know which way to go
(Sick) I can't even run the dough
I don't know which way to go (Psychotic)
I can't even live my life, okay (Psycho)

[Verse]
I can't even live my life
I know I'm a sacrifice (huh)
I told the devil don't cry
I'm coming home tonight (okay)
Tell her I don't want her head, she lice
The price just went up real high (High)
How can I be scared? I've died (Died)
Look in my mind, I'm psyched (Psyched)
Smoke a big pack, yeah, onion (huh)
What you mean the racks ain't come in?
Last to the bank, come runnin'
Lancey, come f*ck up the function (f*ck)
I'm the one disturbing London (yeah)
Come bring the smoke if you tough then (yeah)
I want the cream, f*ck the custard (huh)
That ain't my dawg, he disgustin'
I'll live beyond my deceased
If I got broke this week (this week, huh)
I'ma make somethin' shake like Kelis
Black and yellow diamonds and they sting like a bee
Hit like Mohammed Ali
Walk in the room they can't breathe (Uh)
Twenty-two girls and I leave (psyke, yeah)
Twenty-two racks in my jeans
Hop out the coupe, what's a jeep? (Okay)
Hopped out the womb, didn't sleep (Okay)
p*ssy boy, bring the beef, I'ma eat, steak in my teeth
Jay Trench on the beat, f*ck up the streets
My niggas neat, you niggas neeks
Met her in Harrods, left her in the sheets (okay)
Niggas won't catch up to my ting, it's peak
I'm going beast yeah, adequately, yeah
Hit up the P.A., you know I ain't free, yeah
Call me Triple Six, definitely a demon (Woah)
Come down 'til the evenin'
You ain't in my league, you ain't in my season
My girl walking Victoria's Secret
My niggas take away your life if they need to (haha)
Going too different, they tryna diminish
I painted the picture, they copied the image
They started the war, now it's never gon' finish
I'ma make her a boss, I don't Gucci her linen
Speak on my name and we shootin' and suin' (Pew, Psyke)

[Outro]
Brep-brep (Psycho, psycho)
Brep, brep (Huh? Psycho, psycho)
Brep, brep (Huh?)
Brep, brep

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Songwriter(s): Jay Trench, Lancey Foux

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