Featured In

Credits

AUSFÜHRENDE KÜNSTLER:INNEN
NoCap
NoCap
Stimme und Gesang
KOMPOSITION UND LIEDTEXT
Carter Britz
Carter Britz
Songwriter:in
Kobe Crawford
Kobe Crawford
Songwriter:in
PRODUKTION UND TECHNIK
Gene Hixon
Gene Hixon
Mischtechniker:in
Fantom
Fantom
Produzent:in

Lyrics

(Fantom) You broke my heart into a million pieces I left my Louboutins and all my Yeezys That ain't nothing, I really hope you bleach 'em Burn up my garment, have fun with that designer, bitch I just want you beside me just like my cup is, girl I want Ceelo on side me just like my gun is I wish he never left, I gotta ask myself Would I drown in this styrofoam tonight? Yeah, yeah And float up to the top of the ice, yeah, yeah Chain on flawless, my brain on cross 'em Block on choppers, my life on problems My bitch on toxic, free Osama, one word Bodies, bodies, bodies, bodies Come out that hellhole, I'm rich, Porter, Roddy She told me first night don't exist But shawty gon' bust somethin' for the kid And one day, we all fall down Welcome to the gun-smoke town Spin out the Bentley, leave no regrets Gotta stay outta jail, but the goat need rest Thinkin' I'm needing an ambulance I'm bleedin' Actavis, no, you ain't havin' it Girl, I'm so high, I might never land I kill to be happy, I know I'm an addict, and girl, I just hope that you understand I'm on the floor, I'm searchin' You broke my heart into a million pieces I left my Louboutins and all my Yeezys That ain't nothing, I really hope you bleach 'em Burn up my garment, have fun with that designer, bitch I just want you beside me just like my cup is, girl I want Ceelo on side me just like my gun is I wish he never left, I gotta ask myself Would I drown in this styrofoam tonight? Yeah, yeah And float up to the top of the ice, yeah, yeah Got some models in the room, some in the lobby Fucked around and soaked the game and this shit ain't dried yet Hellcat Charger, no shortage I'm so quick to drop my shell, this Glock cheat on Obama They only serve white in that house, narcs been tryna bomb it My mama's baby, I keep a gun, I don't even semi-lack Fuck a gold plaque, I want my nigga back Catch him on holiday eve and we go right at him I got some opps in the streets and I got some that's rappers I hate when they say that I changed Why do not nobody think a nigga just working harder? I'm still fightin' charges Didn't come this far for nothin', else I'm a worthless star You broke my heart into a million pieces I left my Louboutins and all my Yeezys That ain't nothing, I really hope you bleach 'em Burn up my garment, have fun with that designer, bitch I just want you beside me just like my cup is, girl I want Ceelo on side me just like my gun is I wish he never left, I gotta ask myself Would I drown in this styrofoam tonight? Yeah, yeah And float up to the top of the ice, yeah, yeah
Writer(s): Carter Britz, Kobe Crawford Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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