Guitar
(Blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it)
Papa
Oh, been lookin' good alone
Takin' pics on my phone
Haters streaming my songs (that's right)
Livin' my life on magazines
Crazy, classic, starving
Sunday but music bumping (alright)
And it's not perfect
And the bombs are falling
And the fuck, we are crying
In the streets, we're all fucked up
And it's my birthday
And the love is crazy
And the hope is finished
In the streets, we're all fucked up
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
Wanna get hot at the festival
(Wanna get hot at the festival)
Wanna get hot like a miracle
(Wanna get hot like a miracle)
Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale
(Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale)
Got a lot of stories to tell, ooh (Papa)
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
(Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it, go)
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it)
Papa
Oh, been lookin' good alone
Takin' pics on my phone
Haters streaming my songs (that's right)
Livin' my life on magazines
Crazy, classic, starving
Sunday but music bumping (alright)
And it's not perfect
And the bombs are falling
And the fuck, we are crying
In the streets, we're all fucked up
And it's my birthday
And the love is crazy
And the hope is finished
In the streets, we're all fucked up
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
Wanna get hot at the festival
(Wanna get hot at the festival)
Wanna get hot like a miracle
(Wanna get hot like a miracle)
Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale
(Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale)
Got a lot of stories to tell, ooh (Papa)
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
(Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it, go)
Credits
Writer(s): Kanada Farito, Piotr Ostrowski
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2025 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.