Paroles de SIR BAUDELAIRE (feat. DJ Drama)

The Sun beamin' Y'all ready? Ayo (DJ the fuck-It's DJ the fuck—) It's T, baby I don't think you're ready Wolf Haley, Bunnyhop, yo I must say, I'm glad you found your way here Yo Cookie crumbs in the rolls (Rolls), jet fuel scented vest (cyoom) Swim trunks in the trunk, Geneva water the best (the best, yeah) The passport lookin' thick, the afro need a pick My skin soak up the Sun, ain't shakin' hands with you bums (nah) Bunnyhopper, the new car doors, they lift open The lake water, dry off at the French Open I rub it in these niggas' facеs like thick lotion That big B is in motion, uh Cool peach cobbler, dudе, spit like a llama do Used to be reckless, you should see what them commas do New le FLEUR* season, summertime look like private school Keep it low, don't want that shit to blow like Osama shoe I'm a true connoisseur, hotel concierge Know me as that spaced-out nigga with the chunky airs UFC, that shit swole up, that's VVS, keep Vic safe That's a mansion on that USB, it's T Yeah I hope you niggas been spendin' your time wisely Call me if you get lost, baby As you can tell, we have (Haha) This shit for the sunseekers Got the bikes on the tarmac Welcome to the disco Hittin' wheelies and shit Call me if you get lost Perfume on the skin, ha Hahaha Call me if you lost See, while y'all was in the house (call me if you lost) We was takin' Rolls Royces to go see alligators DJ Drama, man (call me if you lost) Travelin' the world Passport stamped up (call me) It's Tyler Baudelaire, nigga