Текст песни
2 a.m., howlin' outside,
Lookin' but I cannot find,
Don't you fall asleep this time,
I been on a long way drive,
Only you can stand my mind,
Only you can fix inside,
So if I make it out tonight,
Let's make it a badass time.
[Verse 1: Travis Scott]
Okay, I got it, copy,
20/20, but I can't see nobody,
One eye open, Illuminati,
This might be the verse that make em drop me.
Ain't makin friends, we just makin hobbies,
No, that wasn't my girl, that was just a hobby,
Call up 50, tell 'em load up the lobby,
Elevator up, no need to find me,
Yeah, yeah!
X-ray vision, see through you niggas,
Newspaper stand, we press the issue,
We ain't sendin shots, we launchin missiles
Right up at your hood up north.
Checkin Third Ward, I'm goin mental,
Fuckin up my room, I've been rackin up incidentals,
Cookin on a tune, I been cheffin up instrumentals.
Nothin' else to do when you're ridin in the,
When you ridin in the, in the back of the back seat,
Driver run the miles up like I'm runnin a track meet.
Gotta watch my back now ‘cause these niggas at me,
All black in a Benz when I pull up on you.
[Chorus: Travis Scott]
They don't want to see me in the ends, in the ends,
Let me catch you creepin here past 10, in the ends,
My choppa check-a-hoe like Indian,
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah!
[Verse 2: André 3000]
Eh, to them I'm a big dick, a cheque and some laughter,
I guess it's all survival but please be careful,
I gave up on the Bible long time ago,
I hope it ain't give up on me, I don't know.
I came up in the town, they were murderin kids,
And dumped them in the creek up from where I live,
Bodies, bodies, bodies sprinkled around,
We runnin through the sprinkler lookin around –
Killer would show up with boxes of pizza
And said he had a label recruitin people,
Put that on my grandma and everythin',
My homie said he told em his name was Wayne,
It could've been me or could've been you, too.
What a memory in me, needin to lose,
What's gon patch up my inner tube
So I could pop a wheelie and walk it too?
[Outro: Travis Scott]
Oh yeah, La Flame with the nappy fro now,
In the ends I'mma kick your door down,
Oh yeah, we keep wildin out the Mo now,
Oh yeah, keep that 300 Z-Ro when I pull up on ya!
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Who Will Buy
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Paris Summer
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Somethin' Stupid (feat. Nancy Sinatra)
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