Tory Lanez - Champagne Wishes & Caviar Dreams lyrics

Im tryin to run away from temptations
But the shit’s calling
I’m at the Ritz Carlton
Sitting in this bitch balling
I know these women faking and
Still I can’t call it they like you drive
But ain’t arrivin when your whip is stallin
I thought this fame shit would change shit
I turn around
I’m still surrounded by the same shit
I’m on a champagne sip
Got the flame late still moving up
It’s open seas like the salve ship
Buffling the plague click
You know you with the don it's whatever
Lyrically im Kobe and Lebron put together
Niggas can’t accept it so they tell
Me that im soundin like
Uh, a bunch of rappers that don't sound alike
Fuck you, man, I’m off the subject
These niggers be faking
These bitches be hating
Shit, I’m about my budget
First class from the seven
Is filling the norms
Scotty Gripping balling win to
My women is from
That’s why they love the dome
In house left the keys out and never know
Give me two bad bitches, I give my Elleanor
And some ice cold water to sip this lemon all
Fuck you niggers, you nigga’s about fifty
She’s skinny and gold jimmy
For you think you fuck strictly I’m
Here to get fucked quickly
Scar mouth, she got Mohawk and he thoughts
With a left dress, which body is the mess
Don’t be a dog
I can show you how I’m pimping
Rather leash neat this lifestyle
When I’m limping rule number one
Keep your head up in the wind
You gotta, gotta make some money
Go bananas like it’s chimping
Folks don’t ever know, heard this
Pussy niggers hating, fuck, who ever do
Fly diva, I eat her if she had a boo
But she got to have
Millions, rapper villie on
Stacks on zillion
You rolling with the state up next, ball
Met your face like a break up, nigga
And I see I’m trying to take up next, we
Gonna make a next call it jake out, nigga
We need to fight for
Nigga, switch your side
Tell me who you ride for
Do your verge, stop and turn it, nigga
Fight for
Pump seven out of eleven bottle side shore
I got worry, we should kill it, nigga
Why for? Can in the stupid your level
I’m in the sky more
I’m in the Louie V style
Shit is Gucci guitar
I’m meaning Suzuki models give me Gucci a lot
Bitch, I’m mobbing through the mall
Got trullies ‘em all
You’re telling get money, niggers
While I’m truly depart
Me and sun shine up a deal
Best skin coping for another winning
Have ‘em like the track field how
You run up in it
‘till it’s dead and finished
Hop in mane and fuck it with it
Why is they fucking with me? On my shit
Get off my dick
Don’t know what this money all mean
All I’m left and all I’m which, c’mon
Niggers still hating, c’mon
Niggers getting ready, c’mon
Why there is the begging, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon, c’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon c’mon, c’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon c’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon

C’mon, don’t leave me alone
Babe, please, don’t leave me alone