Fever (feat. Buckshot) کے بول

You know I'm cold, but I'm hot, got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay', come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside, so we gotta keep the top off Up now, but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like: Wait, let me cop some (yeah, yeah) Swear to God, I live in Kate Moss moments Had it in my hands, but I fumble when I hold it Under city lights, movin' outta frame West Village bitch, but she won't stay the same B-b-bones too sharp, skin stays tight Breath too slow from a long last night Heart too fast and my chest gets tight Cryin' out my name with tears in her еyes Q-Q-Q for the fifty, twenty-fivе eighth She cute and she miss me, callin' me bae But I don't got time, bitch, I'm married to the game Fast l— fast life, man, I'm lovin' this pace Every leap of faith, I fall Fade away into the curtain call I found God in the bathroom stall Forgive my sins, pray to Saint Laurent You know I'm cold, but I'm hot, got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay', come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside, so we gotta keep the top off Up now, but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like, Wait, let me cop some You know I'm cold, but I'm hot, got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay', come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside, so we gotta keep the top off Up now, but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like: Wait, wait, wait, wait— Good dope, no feelings I'm so high, call me the ceiling Balenciaga bag full of whispers and pills Dior on the dresser, I got blood on the bills U-u-u-up, down, sideways, but I'm fallin' backwards Pop a painkiller, Oxycodone with a Xanax I was on the runways, I was out in Paris Now I don't even leave the house, I'm embarrassed You know I'm cold, but I'm hot, got a fever I'm puttin' Tris in a Crush two-litre We got yay', come fluffy like a bunny Blood on my Givenchy tee, nose runnin' I'm with Buckshot, summertime drivin' Hot outside, so we gotta keep the top off Up now, but you know I still bust shots High-grade, they like: Wait, let me cop some