Dinner Boys (feat. Justin Alexandre)
Love to eat, love to grub, love to snack
Love to wine, dine, chat, and relax
From appetizers to aperitifs
From tuxedos to pickin' pernil from between your teeth
Bacon been the Maître d, to the chef de cuisine
And everything in between, cut the custard, get the cream
Too spicy for the strangers
Danger, danger!
It's a banger, fried in some chili chicken fingers
Who in the fuck you lookin' at, son?
Don't you know who I think I am?
Dinner boys, dinner boys, dinner boys
Oh, there's a wait at the restaurant?
Not for me, baby, linguini for three
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I know my Halal guy's Halal guy
I get them extra fries for free
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I speak French and Italian whilst wildin' and stylin'
Compilin' pesto caprese
I show up to a 4-star restaurant in a t-shirt
Then start munchin' lobster 'til my fuckin' teeth hurt
"You want parmesan?"
Yeah, bitch, me first!
And when I'm done, bring me cognac with my reefer
I don't want that blazer, you don't like my hoodie?
The way I drink, you know large this check could be?
So bring me some aged whiskey and some pigs' feet
And no, nothing else, I don't eat food, miss me!
Bitch, I invented dinner
The spread is linen when I'm breadin' chicken
Just in case the blunt is laced
And I start fiendin' for the wine with the rustic taste
Fuck this place
If there's no trace of pasta on the menu
Bust a shell
'Bout to drop a lobster in the hen soup
Switch it up
'Cause the more you talk, I'm off it
It's too late
You opened up Pandora's Box of chocolates
Who in the fuck you lookin' at, son?
Don't you know who I think I am?
Dinner boys, dinner boys, dinner boys
Oh, there's a wait at the restaurant?
Not for me, baby, linguini for three
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I know my Halal guy's Halal guy
I get them extra fries for free
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I speak French and Italian whilst wildin' and stylin'
Compilin' pesto caprese
My order
Chicken fingers with a side of chicken wings
Fried chicken, actually, fuck it, make it a fricassee
Waiter' eye waterin' as he eyein' I in disbelief
As me and the pork hind see eye-to-eye and cheek-to-cheek
I'm a scoville celebrity, no one ahead of me
They won't be forgettin' me, a toast to my legacy
I'll raise a glass, before I take it back
Of course I use my shirt for a napkin
Bitch, it's made for that
Sir, step away from the buffet, I think you've had enough
Ha! Look at this dude, he mad as fuck
No! Get out of my bar, you've had too much!
But my MasterCard is maxed, this ain't addin' up
You think you fine, fine-dine, please
¿Tú hablas Dinner-ese?
You light cheese whilst Bacon Gouda or Pimento
Or Luda in Memento, tuxedo not rental
Haughty instrumental got Bacon in ultra-respect mode
Love to wine, dine, chat, and relax
From appetizers to aperitifs
From tuxedos to pickin' pernil from between your teeth
Bacon been the Maître d, to the chef de cuisine
And everything in between, cut the custard, get the cream
Too spicy for the strangers
Danger, danger!
It's a banger, fried in some chili chicken fingers
Who in the fuck you lookin' at, son?
Don't you know who I think I am?
Dinner boys, dinner boys, dinner boys
Oh, there's a wait at the restaurant?
Not for me, baby, linguini for three
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I know my Halal guy's Halal guy
I get them extra fries for free
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I speak French and Italian whilst wildin' and stylin'
Compilin' pesto caprese
I show up to a 4-star restaurant in a t-shirt
Then start munchin' lobster 'til my fuckin' teeth hurt
"You want parmesan?"
Yeah, bitch, me first!
And when I'm done, bring me cognac with my reefer
I don't want that blazer, you don't like my hoodie?
The way I drink, you know large this check could be?
So bring me some aged whiskey and some pigs' feet
And no, nothing else, I don't eat food, miss me!
Bitch, I invented dinner
The spread is linen when I'm breadin' chicken
Just in case the blunt is laced
And I start fiendin' for the wine with the rustic taste
Fuck this place
If there's no trace of pasta on the menu
Bust a shell
'Bout to drop a lobster in the hen soup
Switch it up
'Cause the more you talk, I'm off it
It's too late
You opened up Pandora's Box of chocolates
Who in the fuck you lookin' at, son?
Don't you know who I think I am?
Dinner boys, dinner boys, dinner boys
Oh, there's a wait at the restaurant?
Not for me, baby, linguini for three
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I know my Halal guy's Halal guy
I get them extra fries for free
Dinner boys, dinner boys
I speak French and Italian whilst wildin' and stylin'
Compilin' pesto caprese
My order
Chicken fingers with a side of chicken wings
Fried chicken, actually, fuck it, make it a fricassee
Waiter' eye waterin' as he eyein' I in disbelief
As me and the pork hind see eye-to-eye and cheek-to-cheek
I'm a scoville celebrity, no one ahead of me
They won't be forgettin' me, a toast to my legacy
I'll raise a glass, before I take it back
Of course I use my shirt for a napkin
Bitch, it's made for that
Sir, step away from the buffet, I think you've had enough
Ha! Look at this dude, he mad as fuck
No! Get out of my bar, you've had too much!
But my MasterCard is maxed, this ain't addin' up
You think you fine, fine-dine, please
¿Tú hablas Dinner-ese?
You light cheese whilst Bacon Gouda or Pimento
Or Luda in Memento, tuxedo not rental
Haughty instrumental got Bacon in ultra-respect mode
Credits
Writer(s): Jackson Yates
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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