Hollis
Macklemore & Ryan Lewis & Schoolboy Q & Hollis - White Walls songtekst
Je score:
I wanna be free, I wanna just live Inside my Cadillac, That is my shit Now throw it up (I throw that up) That's what it is (that's what it is) In my C A D I L L A C bitch (biatch) Can't see me through my tints (nah ah) I'm riding real slow (slow motion) In my paint wet drippin shinin' like my 24's (umbrella) I ain't got 24's (no oh) But I'm on those Vogues That's those big white walls, round them hundred spokes Old school like old English in that brown paper bag I'm rolling in that same whip that my granddad had Hello haters, Damn y'all mad 30k on the Caddy, now how backpack rap is that? Got that off-black Cadillac, midnight drive Got that gas pedal, leaning back, taking my time I'm blowin' that roof off, letting in sky I shine, the city never looked so bright Man I'm lounging in some shit Bernie Mac would've been proud of Looking down from heaven like damn that's stylish Smilin', don't pay attention to the mileage Can I hit the freeway? I'm legally going 120 Easy weaving in and out of the traffic They cannot catch me, I'm smashing I'm ducking bucking them out here I'm like go fuckin their tastic, I am up in a classic Now I know what it's like under the city lights Riding into the night, driving over the bridge The same one we walked across as kids Knew I'd have a whip but never one like this Old school, old school, Candy paint, two seater Yea, I'm from Seattle, There's hella Honda Civics I couldn't tell you about paint either But I really wanted a Caddy so I put in the hours And roll on over to the dealer And I found the car, junior, problem with this geezer Got the keys in and as I was leaving I started screaming Backwoods and dope White hoes in the backseat snorting coke She doing line after line like she's writing rhymes I had it hella my love, tryna blow her mind Cadillac pimpin', my uncle was on 14 years out so excuse me and my necklace was gone Stealing portions of his liquor, water in his Patron Drivin and smiling like I won the fucking lottery homes (fuckin' lottery homes) Tires with the spokes on it and the Vogues too Mustard and mayonnaise, keeping the buns all on My dogs hanging out the window Young as whoosh, fuckin like we ball Tryna fuck em all, kill the fuckin whips See what's poppin' at the mall, meet a bad bitch Slap her booty with my balls You can smoke the pussy, I was tearing down the walls I'm motherfuckin' Awe... Some, swear these sights tryna hypnotize Grip the leather steering wheel while I grip the thighs See the lust stuck up in her eyes Maybe she like the ride or did she like the smoke? Or does she want it low? Give this shit a Coupe de Ville so you'll never know So we cool with niggas, my nigga fuck the limit Got a window tinted for showing gangstas in it Slide 'till the gas is finished, Q