Kishore Kumar Hits

Bas - RE(a)D (with Bas) текст песни

Исполнитель: Bas

альбом: RE(a)D (with Bas)


Don't you try me, if you hit the town
I'll paint it red
And if you decide to hit my phone
I'll leave your ass on read
Don't keep climbing, I'll go crazy
Twist and turn in bed
And if you decline my love
My molten skin will surely shed
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner, hit the ranks and the 'bout
I'ma be the glimmer in the eyеs and the snout
Twelve that shimmеr like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no clout
Slum in the sky, spaceship fears
I'ma leave a bottle of the stain glass tears
Plum in the rye, hopped up peers
I'ma leave a gallon of the same old years
Sum of the times, bane of the years
No antenna on, the moonlit gears
Climate dripped up, ice unclear
Flames of the piles in the hemisphere
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner, hit the ranks and the 'bout
I'ma be the glimmer in the eyes and the snout
Twelve that shimmer like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no clout
Don't you try me, if you hit the town
I'll paint it red
And if you decide to hit my phone
I'll leave your ass on read
Don't keep climbing, I'll go crazy
Twist and turn in bed
And if you decline my love
My molten skin will surely shed
Yeah, I swear you're like my Vegas nights
All the vices I'm afraid to fight, stay the night
We could light it like sage
When the scene is all staged
We could burn the last page, and rewrite
That's sage advice, I let you pick and I pay the price
The plug here
I guess we runnin' from the same things
That's a great thing
I been low, you create wings
I see your glow, you luminate
Like exit signs to your bedroom
I'm facedown in your heirlooms
Your legs tight like legumes
They good for me
They good for me
Beautiful and bittersweet
Bite my tongue and bite the bullet
Life too short to fight the moment
Jump up on it (jump on it)
Leave me with my miseries
Turn my phone on airplane mode
And light me like it's propane
Blowing through the breeze
Before you freeze
Over on me can you lean
Over and pull me in closer
And pitch it to me overhand
Love me like it's Notre Dame
Quasimodo growing quasi feelings for you
I been fiending for you
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner, hit the ranks and the 'bout
I'ma be the glimmer in the eyes and the snout
Twelve that shimmer like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no clout

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