AWA

Slow Down Turbo

Track byRich Brian

452
4
  • 2019.07.26
  • 3:59
AWAで聴く

歌詞

Red Lamborghini, red Lamborghini Autumn, Autumn Light, light, light, light I ain't got no red Lamborghini and I ain't a model Stars on my TV, I ain't got in color I ain't got no red Lamborghini, no bubbles in my bottle Damn, this is easy, but baby, I'm gon' run 'em Let me, uh, shoot my shit real quick When I shoot, ayy, they gon' get a top fade, ooh She bad, and she always tryna rendezvous Speak the truth, keep it 3K like I'm André Can't relate to this, guess we grew 'round different things, man When I shoot, ayy, they gon' get a top fade This ain't horizontal, why you lookin' at me sideways? Told the venue pay me stocks, I'm feelin' like Beyoncé I won't ever quit, I was born to be the shit, ayy Uh, how's it feel? Been through ups and downs and they still ask me, "How's it feel?" Face is hurtin' from the smiles it's time to keep it real I been in the booth like, "Who the fuck I gotta kill?" Slow down, 'cause you're movin' too fast for the world You're gonna miss out Slow down, 'cause you're movin' too fast for the world You're gonna miss out Winter jacket on me, I love when it's cold out Act so tough, tell me what you really know 'bout Closed-eyed chronicles, slow ride carnivals, no lines audible Your girl, my girl, it's all the same when she swallowin' Aim my dick and I shoot her abdominals My shit dope, always get people wonderin' Your mirror broke 'cause it saw what's in front of it Walkin' 'round, I'm feelin' like a fully-loaded weapon I just gave you dick, girl, why do you keep askin' for a present? Actin' hella fed up, bitch, I'm never givin' no more credits And my credit card ain't set up send me money through the FedEx Everybody sleepin' on me, ain't nobody tryna get up I just bought another mirror, hope I see somebody better I don't wanna play no game, lil' bitch, I'm on another level See me at the bakery, I'm tryna get my fuckin' bread up Serve it with some mozzarella, drippin' on you mothafuckas You gon' need to buy umbrellas, you gon' see me at Coachella Fuck your mothafuckin' head up, she lookin' like Cinderella Man, your girl is gettin' wetter, we about to go meta Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy Hold 50 bands, been on road like 50 days I got hella songs inside the vault that I already made Yeah, we gon' deliver this in five business days I sell shows like my fuckin' name Billy Mays These hoes all around me fake, they all Vinny Chase Your girl already know the Wi-Fi at my place I called her December, she drove in the rain She got banned from Uber, she drove the minivan

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