Jean Dawson

Triple Double
I don't smoke menthol (More-more-m-m-menthol) Got confetti in my lungs (Confetti, in my, lung) Got a broken jaw (Bro-ken-ken-jaw-jaw-jaw) 'Cause they won't shoot the one on one (Shoo-oo-oot the one, one) And I'm a ball hog, I ball hard I'm all net, I'm all boards I'm no boy I'm all gold, no glitter on me I'm all soul, black Bowie with a lil' Kobe I do better on my own I do better on my own I do better on my own I do better on my own It's hard to sleep when I don't dream My eyes are red, staring at the street light Pop-pop-papa say, "Stay on my tools" Back to my P's and my Q's I say, "Fuck all your Q and A's" Stood on my own twos, they ain't on my level My E and my Q I put the G in the Q Bitch, I'm a G and I'm cute Parlay with Jean in the coupe SongtexteShe can't name the name of my jeans and it's cool I could just tell at the end of my school, my league, my level (Woo) They ain't Ivy league so they more Irish Spring (Woo) Clean, Imma come clean 'til I leather my leather (Woo) Paint on my nail but don't rattle my feather (Boy!) Don't throw and get killed, by that lil' boy in the kilt Yeah I just bought a vest and upgraded my wheel, yeah That's how I feel, for real, yeah Boy don't get tilt, yeah D-d-don't get your cat pealed Fuck you mean, how did it feel? Yeah, now how does it feel? For real (Che-che-check) I do better on my own I do better on my own I do better on my own I do better on my own Big Karats on me, black girl, blond beach Man of the year, girls in my ear, diamonds and pearls in my hair, yeah Sitting sideways four vogues to the concrete R-Ric Flair drip, right here, talk about Gucci, nine hundred pairs, they unaware Homie ain't my homie, don't act like you know me Easy way to get your shit chopped (Get your shit chopped) Aus Songtexte Mania