Tracks
She don’t believe in shootin’ stars,
but she believe in shoes and cars
Wood floors in the new apartment,
couture from the store’s department
You more like L’eau de Stardee shit,
I’m more of the trips to Florida
Order the hors d’oeuvres, views of the Water
Straight from the page of your favorite author
And the weather breezy,
man why can’t life always be this easy
She in the mirror dancing so sleazy,
I get a call like where are you Yeezy
Try to hit you with a ‘Heure de Woopie’
Till I get flashed by the paparazzi
Damn, these nigga’s got me,
I hate these nigga’s more than the Nazis
