Uh Yo G, what up Who's this pretty blonde chick taking bong rips Park Ave catching the cab the next morning We partied hard last night, I'm fucking exhausted Headed back to my hood, I'm feeling nauseous She said someone broke her heart and that she's cautious She thinks the fact that I'm a broke rapper is awesome Tennis lessons, I wonder what those Lacoste(d) So shout out to all the Rachels and Laurens Monclers in the winter time Three courses for dinner time (V.I.P) Patron and lime, smokin' weed while we drinkin wine Meatpackin' district There was a line Oh we must have skipped it Or she must have sniffed it Living recklessly She said to me
You won't need a real job You won't need a real job Because I would love to pay for you (pay for me, pay for me, yeah) You could be a good man to me (I could do that, yup, I could do that) I would love to pay for you You are made for me
Walking out of Barney's, coppin hella shit Careful, this lamb skin is delicate Paid like I’m selling it Put this on my bitch, she’s benevolent Five racks on my outfit, man that’s an estimate Young and we decadent She don’t give a fuck, so I’m spending it See her pop’s a politician He was busy trying to balance out the deficit While me and her were in his Mercedes all affectionate Shit, I’m just young and living life man Bad decisions, I ain’t worried about the right plan Every night I’m pulling Trojans out the nightstand Cuz every night I’m pulling bitches from the mic stand A rich girl takes care of me Hommie, I ain’t tripping off when other people stare at me Cuz ordinarily she purchases it all voluntarily I’m skipping tax brackets if she marries me Yeah, and then she guaranteed
You won’t need a real job You won’t need a real job Because I would love to pay for you (pay for me, pay for me) You can be a good man to me (I could do that, yeah, I could do that) I would love to pay for you You are made for me
What’s your real name? Said I’m Myles, Mills I’m just a rapper and I’m trying to make a mil I’m from uptown, the hood is run down But I think you’re dope, I’m just trying to keep it real Well she ended up paying for the meal Shorty, that is worth a bill Well maybe we can be friends I’m down to be the guy you text when you need some drunk sex on the weekends Smoke this high grade, kill your migraine It’s Monday morning but we treat it like a Friday Nobody can blame you if you born, broke But if you die broke, that’s your fault So now we smoke joints in the club Drink champagne and we talk about love Getting some money now, but she told me if I wasn't she’ll hold it down Rolls Royce when we roll around She talking about
You won’t need a real job You won’t need a real job Because I would love to pay for you (pay for me, pay for me) You could be a good man to me (I could do that, yeah, I could do that) I would love to pay for you You are made for meTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
