Dom Corleo, Lunchbox - #WW lyrics
Dominic Anthony Paoletti
[Dom Corleo, Lunchbox - #WW lyrics]
(Neilaworld) uh uh (yeah) , uh uh
Rick Owens my cargo
I'm in Paris with your main ho
In Paris eating escargot, on the tour
Got yo' ho front row
Yes, I'm going places where you can't
Go with exotic hoes and bankroll
Got a fat ass like a mango
Play with the pussy like Nintendo
Yeah, I got my extendo
This my Rick Owens Detroit denim
When I put on this shit, yeah
I feel like a god
They thinkin' the holy one sent 'em
Yeah, I keep a stick on me like COD
Chain on my neck make you sit up
And that chopper on me make 'em get up
When I'm off of the lеan, I get fed off
Balenciaga, I'm a Balеnci' rock her
In my Balenci' ravers, bitch, I'ma rock out
I'm a showstopper and I'm finna stay up
My money dunkin', I made it like layup
Put it all on the table, I gotta lay low
Who watching me? I don't know who watching me
The fuck do you think this a game?
I'm goin' up in my rank, bitch
I'm rockin' out with a K
I'm rocking out in my Undercover
Got some Bs on the fucking blank'
I'on even rock the blue denim
But I guess I'm rockin' it today
I'on even fuck no lame bitches
But I guess I'm fuckin' one today
And I'on even know my own name
But they say I got a couple names
Bitch, I got a couple names, bitch
I got a couple things
Said I got them racks and
That's a funny claim, oh
Rick Owens on me, they like, "Ooh"
Bitch, this is not no Alexander Wang, oh
Run up on me, yeah, you doomed
Got my choppa, Que lo que, oh
Never wanna be like you 'cause
These niggas really lame
All this fuckin' codeine
All this fucking drank
All this fuckin' drank, cut off my demons
They not part of the mission
Try to move wrong, you get shot just like
They all bailed out on me
But I'm not Christian
We made a for all this liquor
I'ma make sure that y'all niggas listen
Your bitch gon' jump in the
Car when I'm whipping
Rick Owens my cargo
I'm in Paris with your main ho
In Paris eating escargot, on the tour
Got yo' ho front row
Yes, I'm going places where you can't
Go with exotic hoes and bankroll
Got a fat ass like a mango
Play with the pussy like Nintendo
Yeah, I got my extendo
This my Rick Owens Detroit denim
When I put on this shit, yeah
I feel like a god
They thinkin' the holy one sent 'em
Yeah, I keep a stick on me like COD
Chain on my neck make you sit up
And that chopper on me make 'em get up
When I'm off of the lеan, I get fed off
Balenciaga, I'm a Balеnci' rock her
In my Balenci' ravers, bitch, I'ma rock out
I'm a showstopper and I'm finna stay up
My money dunkin', I made it like layup
Put it all on the table, I gotta lay low
Who watching me? I don't know who watching me
The fuck do you think this a game?
I'm goin' up in my rank, bitch
I'm rockin' out with a K
I'm rocking out in my Undercover
Got some Bs on the fucking blank'
I'on even rock the blue denim
But I guess I'm rockin' it today
I'on even fuck no lame bitches
But I guess I'm fuckin' one today
And I'on even know my own name
But they say I got a couple names
Bitch, I got a couple names, bitch
I got a couple things
Said I got them racks and
That's a funny claim, oh
Rick Owens on me, they like, "Ooh"
Bitch, this is not no Alexander Wang, oh
Run up on me, yeah, you doomed
Got my choppa, Que lo que, oh
Never wanna be like you 'cause
These niggas really lame
All this fuckin' codeine
All this fucking drank
All this fuckin' drank, cut off my demons
They not part of the mission
Try to move wrong, you get shot just like
They all bailed out on me
But I'm not Christian
We made a for all this liquor
I'ma make sure that y'all niggas listen
Your bitch gon' jump in the
Car when I'm whipping