¡MAYDAY x MURS! - Spiked Punch lyrics

[Verse 1: Bernz] Somebody put a little bit of that alcohol In my little red cup and we can drink it all Motherf**er this that heat this that panama Y'all boys want a single I'm the catalog I'm like New Year shots and doughnuts in the parking lot And good pot when my music drop And even if I ever wanted to, I'd never stop Hold up motherf**er, someone spiked the motts [Verse 2: Murs] We got Bloods and Crips in the parking lot Somebody talking too much so he might get shot This n***a play too much and he say too much He from whoopty whoop and he from such and such I'm like what the f**? Can we all just chill? Before I make a phone call and this sh** get real Matter fact f** the phone call, this ain't ‘06 I'm bout to knock you out on some old school sh** [Verse 3: Wrekonize] And this a total mix of bi-coastal spit Murs Mayday, Mayday Murs, what a loco fit I got shade in the distance, sun on my back But I keep running for the ones who feeling under attack Had a late night convo up with Nick Carter Went to sleep awake now I feel a bit smarter Ladies in the front keeping us a bit harder The Punch bowl filled with the smiles of a martyr [Verse 4] [Murs] What you think you a part of? A world full of honors [Bernz] A planet full of bombers Or a little bit of ganja [Wrekonize] I got a crew over yonder That wanna make world wonders We here to party all summer And spike every bowl with the love down under [Hook: Murs] All I see is p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada (Spiked Punch) Show me love up in the club Gotta show a little love to the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Give me love up in the club Gotta give a little love to the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Where the love up in the club? Gotta get a little love from the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Give me d** up in the club Gotta get a little buzzed with the ones that I love [Verse 4: Bernz] And I ain't bout no second guessing Broke the watch on my wrist I ain't stressing Cash on the beat cause it sound expensive When I see what I want I ain't apprehensive Club full of thugs trying to release tension And a couple bad bitties trying to give me affection Murs in the studio giving us lessons Over shots of tequila making sh** infectious [Verse 5: Murs] What the f** is bachata? What's up with arata Arata arato, what's up with my vatos De Los east? Los no mismo, I'm not from the east coast Bout to bail to the store for a bolsa of Fritos Fritos fritas, what's up with the chicas? What's up with your homegirl? Esta la Bonita She looking at me crazy, I might get her pregnant I'm way too turnt so I gotta let Wrek in [Verse 6: Wrekonize] And we get extra questions, "Where the hell Plex been? Are y'all really Tech's friends? Can you get guests in?" I don't need a job so this interview's over Came to pop lock 'til the profit is so sure Then get the closure feeling oh so sore From running round the planet doing damage with no cure Give me, give me horns and confetti galore Grabbing everything in sight and we ready for more [Hook: Murs] All I see is p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada p**y, prada, whole lotta colada (Spiked Punch) Show me love up in the club Gotta show a little love to the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Give me love up in the club Gotta give a little love to the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Where the love up in the club? Gotta get a little love from the ones that I love (Spiked Punch) Give me d** up in the club Gotta get a little buzzed with the ones that I love