Naughty Boy, Ella Eyre, Wiz Khalifa - Think About It lyrics
Wiz Khalifa [Cameron Jibril Thomaz] Minot, North Dakota/Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, U.S. 🇺🇸
[Naughty Boy, Ella Eyre, Wiz Khalifa - Think About It lyrics]
Yeah, you know it's Naughty
Boy and young Khalifa, man
Hotel Cabana, Taylor Gang
Got me up all night just to start a fight
You don't wanna think about it
You drink about it you smoke about it
Don't talk about it every night's the same
Who's the one to blame?
You don't wanna think about it
You drink about it you smoke about it
Don't talk about it
Don't make it easy for yourself
13's on my Impala
Raw cone filled with chronic smoke
Homie, I got game like the Shuttlesworth fam
Milk these lames for what they worth
HUF socks, ashes on my shirt
Three wheel motion all you motherfuckers
The Porsche in the garage then got
A life for my dogs
I had nothing at all but now
I take trips to Vegas rolling up
Playing songs on my oldies playlist
Diamonds on my fist, Rollie on my wrist
My life's the shit
Standing over the terrace
Made so much last year
These lil' niggas should be embarrassed
Claim we the same
But the difference is apparent
Copy my style so much they got me
Like 'where the fuck is their parents?'
Smoking so much that the
Public think it's scary
But I don't give a fuck
I'm rolling another one up
And giving middle fingers to you little fucks
Who get online and say I suck
Long time you rolling papers
And wearing chucks
And I ain't even had my best
Year, ten cars, 20 millions
Fuck I'mma do next year?
Boy and young Khalifa, man
Hotel Cabana, Taylor Gang
Got me up all night just to start a fight
You don't wanna think about it
You drink about it you smoke about it
Don't talk about it every night's the same
Who's the one to blame?
You don't wanna think about it
You drink about it you smoke about it
Don't talk about it
Don't make it easy for yourself
13's on my Impala
Raw cone filled with chronic smoke
Homie, I got game like the Shuttlesworth fam
Milk these lames for what they worth
HUF socks, ashes on my shirt
Three wheel motion all you motherfuckers
The Porsche in the garage then got
A life for my dogs
I had nothing at all but now
I take trips to Vegas rolling up
Playing songs on my oldies playlist
Diamonds on my fist, Rollie on my wrist
My life's the shit
Standing over the terrace
Made so much last year
These lil' niggas should be embarrassed
Claim we the same
But the difference is apparent
Copy my style so much they got me
Like 'where the fuck is their parents?'
Smoking so much that the
Public think it's scary
But I don't give a fuck
I'm rolling another one up
And giving middle fingers to you little fucks
Who get online and say I suck
Long time you rolling papers
And wearing chucks
And I ain't even had my best
Year, ten cars, 20 millions
Fuck I'mma do next year?