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Corrección Letra
Vogue Cover
par
Westside Gunn
Featuring(s) : Stove God Cooks
Regreso
Letra
[Intro: Stove God Cooks & Westside Gunn] I let the work dry on the Vogue cover Made it snow for seven whole summers Feds tappin', I don't want no numbers Don't ask the price, bitch, you know the numbers Out the pot, set it on the Vogue cover It's gon' blizzard for the whole summer Feds tappin', I don't want no numbers Birds go fast, bitch (Ayo) [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Kick down your door in my Lanvins (Ah) Left wrist, right wrist dancin' (Ah) Hermès helicopter, landed in the Hamptons (Ah) Gauge down the leg, I was walkin' like I'm crampin' (Ah) Walked in the bank, the bank bitch called me handsome (Ah) Makе it hand-to-hand, sportin' one of one Vanses (Woo) Ayo, ayo (Ayo, ayo, FLYGOD), ayo Trippеd over roses, why these niggas on my shoulders? Shoppin' sprees, jumped out a Lotus, snort a bump, come out the coma (Skrrt) Hear some shots at any moment, four pound, I had to go to court (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Show my paperwork, then they welcome me with open arms My triple beam and my SBs got a bird on it (Ah) Lisa came back with a stem and a fifty Said she left Earth on it, let her twerk on it (Woo) She started singin' like Eddie Levert on it [Interlude: Eddie Levert & Westside Gunn] Baby, hold on to me (Brrt) See, I'm a special kind (Brrt) A man that is hard to find, told you a thousand times (Brrt) Baby, hold on to me (Brrt) Oh, baby, hold— [Verse 2: Stove God Cooks] Plug had me sittin' at his crib for seven hours (He did) He mowed the lawn, washed all his cars, and watered the flowers (Shit was crazy) Back of my mind, I'm like, "Nigga, go get the powder" (Go get it) It pays to hit the last free-throw shots when you down one (Woo) And he just wan' see how much I really want it (Yeah) And if a little time'll make a nigga give up on him (It won't) Fuck it, I'll sit here and wait 'Cause we gon' stuff so many in the door, panel won't screw on straight (Keep goin') Twenty-eight, twenty-eight, thirty-six twenty-eights We do numbers through the Cartiers Every day for a month, had his block sprayed up (Brr, brrt, bah, bah, bah, brrt, brrt, bah, bah) She said, "Your jewelry cost what?", I said, "A Mustang truck, bitch" (A Mustang truck, bitch, bitch) This ain't luck, bitch, this brick's weighed up, bitch (Bitch) Them niggas ain't us bitch (Bitch, no)
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