Correction Paroles Miami Vice par Pusha T

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Paroles

30, you a fool for this one

You promised me it was all a good thing
Now it's headed for destruction
In the dark, no sign of of daylight
This is so wrong and then it feels right, oh baby
There's no one so beautiful, you drive me crazy
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh, baby
And you know what kind of life I live, can't let you play me
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh, baby
There's no one so beautiful, you drive me crazy
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh, baby
And you know what kind of life I live, can't let you play me
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh

Guns go for the low, coke go for the high
When the mules get sprung, we takin' it to the sky
FedEx packagin' is no longer accident
Vindictive baby mothers takin' knees like they Kaepernick
Honda Accords for drug lords
And Pop Warner coaches get sponsored like world tours
Keep two million in false storages
Ooh! We think bigger, we notorious
Knew the candy lady, became the candy man
757, we call it Candyland
Metro PCS-in', without a data plan
This is lead babies, poppin' Ativan
Home of where them young n***as full up
Money get shown by the way a n***a pull up
Legends got made when a real n***a stood up
'Cause even in a cage, they gon' still throw the hood up like yah!

In the dark, no sign of of daylight
This is so wrong and then it feels right, ooh baby (Yeah)
And you know what kind of life I live, can't let you play me
There's nowhere I gotta go (Yeah, yeah, yeah, oh, yeah)

Fifth wheel on a Cadillac, dope good for my cataracts
One time for them Gary n***as, I bury n***as, I don't battle rap (Yeah)
MAC-MAC in a nap sack, got a mouse trap for them rat-at-ats (Yeah)
Right hand on my left wrist, still whip that good crad-da-dack (Woo)
In the back of that black Corolla, my chopper and fifty boulders (Yeah)
Know a n***a flow was sick as Ebola mixed with Corona (Yeah)
Man, how long them n***as gon' be your soldiers when they think you owe 'em
Sh*t, it got so deep, I can't trust my homies 'cause n***as know
I got heroin for the low (The low) Fentanyl for the high (The high)
F**k the doggy, we cut up that Fetty and mix it down
Thousand package of Perkies in Portland, I ship it down (Yeah)
I catch a flight, then I catch my sh*t soon as I hit the town
Now my hoes out
Show up in that new Ferrari Roma, I done showed out
F**kin' Gangsta Gibbs, I'm Soulja Slim without the gold mouth
Holdin' fifty bricks up in a drought, I just might hold out
Tears from an opp up in my watch, them b*t*hes froze out
In the dark, no sign of of daylight
B*t*h, holdin' fifty bricks up in a drought, I just might hold out
This is so wrong and then it feels right, oh baby
F**kin' Gangsta Gibbs, I'm Soulja Slim without the gold mouth
There's no one so beautiful, you drive me crazy
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh, baby
And you know what kind of life I live, can't let you play me
There's nowhere I gotta go, oh

30, you a fool for this one

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