Print

You know I'm cold but I'm hot, I got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay, come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside so we gotta keep the top off Up now but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like, "Wait, lemme cop some" (Yeah, yeah) Swear to god I live in Kate Moss moments Had it in my hands but I fumble when I hold it Under city lights, movin' outta frame West Village bitch but she won't stay the same Bones too sharp, skin stays tight Breath too slow from a long last night Heart too fast and my chest gets tight Cryin' out my name with tears in her еyes Q for the fifty, twenty-fivе eighth She cute and she miss me, callin' me bae But I'on got time, bitch, I'm married to the game Fast (Fast life, man, I'm lovin' this pace) Every leap of faith of fall Fade away into the curtain call I found God in the bathroom stall Letras de cancionesForgive my sins, pray to Saint Laurent You know I'm cold but I'm hot, I got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay, come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside so we gotta keep the top off Up now but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like, "Wait, lemme cop some" You know I'm cold but I'm hot, I got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay, come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside so we gotta keep the top off Up now but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like, "Wait, wait, wait, wait" Good dope, no feelings I'm so high, call me the ceiling Balenciaga bag full of whispers and pills Dior on the dresser, I got blood on the bills Up, down, sideways, but I'm fallin' backwards Pop a painkiller, Oxycodone wit' a Xanax I was on the runways, I was out in Paris Now I don't even leave the house, I'm embarrassed You know I'm cold but I'm hot, I got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay, come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside so we gotta keep the top off Up now but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like, "Wait, lemme cop some" Oscar From Letras Mania