Vinyl
I press the wax to a disc
I grab your hand twirl you around and put the grooves in that shit
As soon as the needle hits we gon start cruising and shit
I watch you waltz and i'm just wonderin' how you doing that shit?
You doing that shit
You fluent in this
Man, i ain't got no rhythm but that's okay
I'm full nigga but they still call me "oreo" anyway
But that's okay
Cause they gonna see that t-locke paved the way
And you be right here by side incase you need to save the day
And you're beautiful (Need to hear it)
Your eyes lead to the spirit
You got prowess when writing lyrics, there's talent, fuck is a gimmick?
You don't got one
And you don't eat wings but you'll always be my hot one
And just know when the music stops we are not done
I press the wax to a disc
I grab your hand twirl you around and put the grooves in that shit
As soon as the needle hits we gon start cruising and shit
I watch you waltz and i'm just wonderin' how you doing that shit?
You doing that shit
Polka dot piano on Fremont Street
Watching the day end was bittersweet
We got another page, the story's incomplete
So let's fly away, I call the window seat
I grab your hand twirl you around and put the grooves in that shit
As soon as the needle hits we gon start cruising and shit
I watch you waltz and i'm just wonderin' how you doing that shit?
You doing that shit
You fluent in this
Man, i ain't got no rhythm but that's okay
I'm full nigga but they still call me "oreo" anyway
But that's okay
Cause they gonna see that t-locke paved the way
And you be right here by side incase you need to save the day
And you're beautiful (Need to hear it)
Your eyes lead to the spirit
You got prowess when writing lyrics, there's talent, fuck is a gimmick?
You don't got one
And you don't eat wings but you'll always be my hot one
And just know when the music stops we are not done
I press the wax to a disc
I grab your hand twirl you around and put the grooves in that shit
As soon as the needle hits we gon start cruising and shit
I watch you waltz and i'm just wonderin' how you doing that shit?
You doing that shit
Polka dot piano on Fremont Street
Watching the day end was bittersweet
We got another page, the story's incomplete
So let's fly away, I call the window seat
Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Locke
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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