Foreign Carbs
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
You cruise up in your Lamborghini
I cruise up with some tortellini
Your little Porsche is boring
I'm serving big portions of orzo, allora
You might be rolling down the block, bro
But I be rolling up with tacos
Mercy, mercy, what's a Murcielago
To a plate of risotto or several fresh churros
You got the suicide doors
Well I've got bruschetta and other hors d'oeuvres
You can wait in your McLaren but she want what I'm preparing
Eating challah make her holler, leather seats why even bother?
Yeah my toaster push to start too
And tonight I'm toasting for two
I've got gluten for free and she's not gluten free
What would you expect me to do
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
How you like those lease payments?
She text me, "u up?" and I bring her a danish
You still don't know is a burrito a sandwich
My girl say yeah so I know she a bad bitch
She watch this pizza dough with a twirl and a flip, and
She giving me a show with the way she move her hips
You be sitting there alone trying to stunt up in your whip
But you know you ain't shit, yeah you know you ain't shit
That Bugatti just ain't what she want
She know I'd never flake unless I'm breaking a croissant
I can tell you feel deflated, well I promise you I'm not
I give her something yummy and she say it hit the spot, oh
You can have em pull around the rolls
But I put butter on the rolls
She can have it dine in or to go
You think that you know dough but you nothing, Papa John Snow
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
It's ya boy Joey Bread
When girls leave my place, you know they leaving well fed
Pastry crumbs on the bed
Sorry if it's soggy, didn't mean to get you wet
And I ain't got no regrets
I could've had a salad, but I had you instead
'Cause meat's always better inside a baguette
And the way you kiss me is more French than French bread
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
You cruise up in your Lamborghini
I cruise up with some tortellini
Your little Porsche is boring
I'm serving big portions of orzo, allora
You might be rolling down the block, bro
But I be rolling up with tacos
Mercy, mercy, what's a Murcielago
To a plate of risotto or several fresh churros
You got the suicide doors
Well I've got bruschetta and other hors d'oeuvres
You can wait in your McLaren but she want what I'm preparing
Eating challah make her holler, leather seats why even bother?
Yeah my toaster push to start too
And tonight I'm toasting for two
I've got gluten for free and she's not gluten free
What would you expect me to do
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
How you like those lease payments?
She text me, "u up?" and I bring her a danish
You still don't know is a burrito a sandwich
My girl say yeah so I know she a bad bitch
She watch this pizza dough with a twirl and a flip, and
She giving me a show with the way she move her hips
You be sitting there alone trying to stunt up in your whip
But you know you ain't shit, yeah you know you ain't shit
That Bugatti just ain't what she want
She know I'd never flake unless I'm breaking a croissant
I can tell you feel deflated, well I promise you I'm not
I give her something yummy and she say it hit the spot, oh
You can have em pull around the rolls
But I put butter on the rolls
She can have it dine in or to go
You think that you know dough but you nothing, Papa John Snow
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
It's ya boy Joey Bread
When girls leave my place, you know they leaving well fed
Pastry crumbs on the bed
Sorry if it's soggy, didn't mean to get you wet
And I ain't got no regrets
I could've had a salad, but I had you instead
'Cause meat's always better inside a baguette
And the way you kiss me is more French than French bread
She don't care about foreign cars
She just care about foreign carbs
I never thought that we'd get this far
Down the menu, but here we are
Credits
Writer(s): Cameron Berkowitz
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.