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(feat. Wiz Khalifa & Ella Eyre) |
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[Intro: Wiz Khalifa] |
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Yeah |
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You know it's Naughty Boy and young Wiz Khalifa mane |
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Hotel Cabana, Taylor Gang. |
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[Hook: Ella Eyre] |
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Got me up all night |
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Used to start a fight |
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You don't wanna think about it |
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You drink about it |
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You smoke about it |
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Don't talk about it |
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Every night, the same |
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Who's the one to blame? |
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You don't wanna think about it |
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You drink about it |
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You smoke about it |
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Don't talk about it |
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Don't make me forget, sir |
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[Verse 1: Wiz Khalifa] |
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13's on my Impala, rock chrome filled with chronic smoke |
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Homie, I got game like the shuttles were fam |
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Milk these lames for what they worth |
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Puff [?] ashes on my shirt, three will motion all you motherfuckers |
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The Porsche in the garage then got a life for my dogs |
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I had nothing at all but now I take trips to Vegas |
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Roll up, playing songs on my oldies playlist |
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Diamonds on my fist, Rollie on my wrist, my life's the shit |
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[Hook] |
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[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa] |
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Standing over the terrace, made so much last year |
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These lil' niggas should be embarrassed |
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Claim we the same, but the difference is apparent |
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Copy my style so much they got me like 'where the fuck is their parents?' |
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Smoking so much that they probably think it's scary |
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But I don't give a fuck, I'm rolling another one up |
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And giving middle fingers to you little fucks |
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You get on lying and say I syck, all time you rolling paper and wearing chucks |
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And I ain't even had my best year, ten cars, 20 millions, fuck I'mma do next year? |
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[Hook] |
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[Instrumental outro] |
