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