French Montana

Miley Cyrus & Will.I.am & Wiz Khalifa & French Montana - Feeling Myself songtekst

Je score:

I be everywhere everybody know me
Super, super fresh
Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck
Givenchy keep the chickens in check
All these car keys drive them chickens to my crib
[?] got somebody sleeping on my bed
She give me IQ, that mean she get ahead
I just give her beats, I don’t give her bread
Cus we be in the club
Bottles on deck and god dammit, god dammit I’m feelin’ myself
Cus I’m gon’ get it all
And I’m a throw it up like god dammit, god dammit I’m feelin’ myself
Look up in the mirror, the mirror look at me
The mirror be like baby you the shit god dammit
You the shit, you the shit, you the shit god dammit
You the shit god dammit, you the shit, you the shit

I be everywhere, everybody know me
Catch me in the club hundred bottles on me
I get busy like a one line
In the drop getting head baby never mind
We gettin’ money why you playing with it
Pool in the crib you could land a water plane in it
Slick Rick looking at the mirror
Big Daddy Kane [?] like Shakira
1.5 custom made car
Me and will table looking like the bar
I love bad bitches that’s my fvckin’ problem

And I don’t give a fvck that’s my whole mo
I rock the whole globe with no problemo
Been rocking coats since my first demo
And now I’m banging hoes in the continental
And I done seen me slidin’ out my dope ride
I open up the doors, suicide
I came from the bottom, the sewer side
I made it to the top cus I do it fly
Feelin’ fvckin’ lucky like the fvckin’ Irish
I see the whole game from my third Iris
I tour the whole word like a dirty pirate
To give the whole world some Miley Cyrus

Now everybody trippin’ like they poppin’ molly
Up in the club, is where you can find me
I do it real big never do it tiny
If you about that bullshit please don’t remind me
I step in this motherfvcker just to make it work
I get on the floor just to make that booty twerk
Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert
Shake, shake that ass like a, like an expert

Doobie in my hand, Rollie on my wrist
Got a bottle of that thousand dollar champagne in my fist
Women of in your dreams sleep in my bed
So I don’t need your brains I need my ass kissed
But all my homies like give me some head
Smoke joints till our eyes turn Indian red
Takes shots till our chests burn
We got papers, bottles, mollies, all this let’s get it started
The bigger the bill, the bigger you ball
The bigger the watch, the bigger the car, the bigger the star
The bigger the chain, the farther you go, you already know
The bigger the bank that’s more hoes, nigga
And I done spent a quarter milli on clothes
Coppin’ them oldschools and puttin’ foriegns on the road
Real talk and if my fuel get low
I roll up another joint take a shot and reload, pow
Vind dit lied op:
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Taal: Engels

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