Engine goin' brazy, I peel out, that whip gon' fish tail
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Can't no ho get me bent, f*ck she thought? Bitch, I'm him
Trackhawk, what I'm in, pockets swole, yours be slim
All I want is Benjamins, throw them racks and reel them in
I got pointers on my wrist, Forgiato's on my rims
Lifted truck, this big body, what you want? Bitch, we got it
Love my guns, love my shotty, I love hundreds, not no thotty
G-Lock tucked, always on me, tear shit up, skrrt off sloppy
Give no f*cks, off that molly, f*ck that bag up and I cop it
Margiela madman, I'm a fiend
See this buckle, this Alyx
Had to hustle, now I bling
Might bust down my pinky ring
Might just cop that Jesus piece
SRT and it's not leased
Demon came with that red key
Never subtle, bitch, I bling
I get paid for what I think
F*ck that muzzle, yappa song
Leave that red tape round' the scene
Model hoes tryna link
They on go, we gon' see
We got poles in that Jeep
Cash don't fold, shit too deep
This Rick Owens shit ain't cheap
I get dough, I don't sleep
I been livin' Gucci, how I rock 1017
Engine goin' brazy, I peel out, that whip gon' fish tail
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Celys - Fish Tail Lyrics
Celys - Fish Tail Lyrics
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Engine goin' brazy, I peel out, that whip gon' fish tail
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Can't no ho get me bent, f*ck she thought? Bitch, I'm him
Trackhawk, what I'm in, pockets swole, yours be slim
All I want is Benjamins, throw them racks and reel them in
I got pointers on my wrist, Forgiato's on my rims
Lifted truck, this big body, what you want? Bitch, we got it
Love my guns, love my shotty, I love hundreds, not no thotty
G-Lock tucked, always on me, tear shit up, skrrt off sloppy
Give no f*cks, off that molly, f*ck that bag up and I cop it
Margiela madman, I'm a fiend
See this buckle, this Alyx
Had to hustle, now I bling
Might bust down my pinky ring
Might just cop that Jesus piece
SRT and it's not leased
Demon came with that red key
Never subtle, bitch, I bling
I get paid for what I think
F*ck that muzzle, yappa song
Leave that red tape round' the scene
Model hoes tryna link
They on go, we gon' see
We got poles in that Jeep
Cash don't fold, shit too deep
This Rick Owens shit ain't cheap
I get dough, I don't sleep
I been livin' Gucci, how I rock 1017
Engine goin' brazy, I peel out, that whip gon' fish tail
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Can't no ho get me bent, f*ck she thought? Bitch, I'm him
Trackhawk, what I'm in, pockets swole, yours be slim
All I want is Benjamins, throw them racks and reel them in
I got pointers on my wrist, Forgiato's on my rims
Lifted truck, this big body, what you want? Bitch, we got it
Love my guns, love my shotty, I love hundreds, not no thotty
G-Lock tucked, always on me, tear shit up, skrrt off sloppy
Give no f*cks, off that molly, f*ck that bag up and I cop it
Margiela madman, I'm a fiend
See this buckle, this Alyx
Had to hustle, now I bling
Might bust down my pinky ring
Might just cop that Jesus piece
SRT and it's not leased
Demon came with that red key
Never subtle, bitch, I bling
I get paid for what I think
F*ck that muzzle, yappa song
Leave that red tape round' the scene
Model hoes tryna link
They on go, we gon' see
We got poles in that Jeep
Cash don't fold, shit too deep
This Rick Owens shit ain't cheap
I get dough, I don't sleep
I been livin' Gucci, how I rock 1017
Engine goin' brazy, I peel out, that whip gon' fish tail
Police not gon' catch me in that Demon, it's gon' give him hell
Grippin' on that Hellcat, but I'm talkin' bout that Springfield
Blowing cash in Paris when I touchdown coppin' YSL
Making plays like a quarterback, I'm really in the field
G-Wagon don't get no flats, I don't even need the fifth wheel
Dirty blicky on me, I think I needa clean my stainless steel
I ain't have no heart, then bought this Chrome, think I'm finally healed
Writer: Mercelys Hoist
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid