Garage Talk歌词
歌手：Wiz Khalifa 专辑：2009
制作人 : Dame Grease
母带工程师 : Eric Dan
Uhh
Hehehe
I just got the **** off a plane
6 car garage
I got more than 1 job
Be a boss, go hard
Wake up smelling kush when I yawn
Shorty wanna **** with the king, tired of them pawns
Ain't on the top? Well thats nonsense
Bank account full of G's so that's all you gon get
TSA on my face so they don't trip
Chain frost, big ***** that I'm with give me no lip
We'd done touch M's now we on to billions
Hard to explain how these new rugs feeling
Blowing kush up in high ceiling's
Having meetings at the crib, confidential dealings
And I ain't gotta tell you who the realest is
Thats my ***** spitta, foreign cooked chef
And where the kitchen is
Money straight where my business is
And the girls **** with me
So I'm always where the b*****s is
Kid
Ye Ye Ye Ye
I see all the ***y mami's in here
Hey, Ay wiz I smell you up here too
Make sure you pass that kk to the DJ booth
Aww s**t
Here comes spitta on them gold BBS
Yeah
Yuh, Swung through gold BBS and the spoiler kit
1986 slinging that s**t
They want the family price on them bricks
But I just had a son and I only love him
So I ain't coming down on the price
Ain't no where else you gon get s**t this nice
Got c*****e white, airforce nikes
Barclay swishes for all my b*****s
Put hightop troops on all my shooters
For the goose down jacket from the booster
Shootouts on the roof, racing in them coupes
She wore the Gucci frames with the door knocker hoops
And the lying ************ tell you I ain't the truth
Rich uncle come through
Pop the truck, pull the duffel
Lay the merchandise out, get the loot ************
East side real *****, show ya how to hustle
Outside put the ******* Chevrolet's on the bumper
If it don't hop, ***** park that s**t
That ain't no low rider, thats a rollin' imposter
Put the stocks on fool, quit playing like you out here
2009, all kind of high
High fly handfuls on the moon trying to drive
Its a stoned duo, solid gold jewel tho
Kicked the **** out that game and now she won't go
Ladies if you ain't go your own drinks
You gotta get out the section
You heard my man spitta
Fellas, raise your glasses
Tip your bartenders
And make sure you take that ***** *****
We bout to ride out
Jet life, taylor gang
Oh
母带工程师 : Eric Dan
Uhh
Hehehe
I just got the **** off a plane
6 car garage
I got more than 1 job
Be a boss, go hard
Wake up smelling kush when I yawn
Shorty wanna **** with the king, tired of them pawns
Ain't on the top? Well thats nonsense
Bank account full of G's so that's all you gon get
TSA on my face so they don't trip
Chain frost, big ***** that I'm with give me no lip
We'd done touch M's now we on to billions
Hard to explain how these new rugs feeling
Blowing kush up in high ceiling's
Having meetings at the crib, confidential dealings
And I ain't gotta tell you who the realest is
Thats my ***** spitta, foreign cooked chef
And where the kitchen is
Money straight where my business is
And the girls **** with me
So I'm always where the b*****s is
Kid
Ye Ye Ye Ye
I see all the ***y mami's in here
Hey, Ay wiz I smell you up here too
Make sure you pass that kk to the DJ booth
Aww s**t
Here comes spitta on them gold BBS
Yeah
Yuh, Swung through gold BBS and the spoiler kit
1986 slinging that s**t
They want the family price on them bricks
But I just had a son and I only love him
So I ain't coming down on the price
Ain't no where else you gon get s**t this nice
Got c*****e white, airforce nikes
Barclay swishes for all my b*****s
Put hightop troops on all my shooters
For the goose down jacket from the booster
Shootouts on the roof, racing in them coupes
She wore the Gucci frames with the door knocker hoops
And the lying ************ tell you I ain't the truth
Rich uncle come through
Pop the truck, pull the duffel
Lay the merchandise out, get the loot ************
East side real *****, show ya how to hustle
Outside put the ******* Chevrolet's on the bumper
If it don't hop, ***** park that s**t
That ain't no low rider, thats a rollin' imposter
Put the stocks on fool, quit playing like you out here
2009, all kind of high
High fly handfuls on the moon trying to drive
Its a stoned duo, solid gold jewel tho
Kicked the **** out that game and now she won't go
Ladies if you ain't go your own drinks
You gotta get out the section
You heard my man spitta
Fellas, raise your glasses
Tip your bartenders
And make sure you take that ***** *****
We bout to ride out
Jet life, taylor gang
Oh
