Vintage
I never knew how hard it was, not having you close and near
If my heart could only speak one word, I'm sure that it would say...
I grew up in the EOS, playing basketball, man I had no stress, as you can guess
We were flipping lighters, man life couldn't be brighter
I was writing lots of lyrics, but man I'm not no writer oh
Flipping magazines, we were only teens
Had no visions, only to get famous and to be on televisions
Hanging records on my walls, from Snoop to Biggie Smalls
Yeah, everything was alright
Yeah, them bitches, yeah they were all tight
Not having you close her near
I never knew how hard it was, five blocks from my dealer
Had to take the bus, I gave him some dinero
Ain't no discuss, yeah no need to discuss
Because I'm vintage, and all of them bitches just want my inches
I'm fucking genius with my text, aye smashing your ex
Don't need no girlfriend it's all just complex aye
I'm like Tyler, but no gay
Fucking bitches in seven on those days, that's a week
I got a six-part, two packs weak
Bitch, I be tripping aye bitch, I be dripping aye
Bitch, I'm not skipping all these motherfucking stripper
Man I'm cold like ice man I'm hot like tea
Man, I'm not like you, cause I know what I see, and it's not always bright
So I mix my codeine with a bottle of Sprite (b-b-bottle of sprite)
Monday to Tuesday, to Wednesday to Thursday
My life is grey, black and white
Because I'm vintage, and all of them bitches just want my inches
I'm fucking genius with my text aye smashing your ex aye
Don't need no girlfriend it's all just complex aye
I'm like Tyler, but no gay
Fucking bitches in seven on those days, that's a week
I got a six-part, two packs weak
If my heart could only speak one word, I'm sure that it would say...
I grew up in the EOS, playing basketball, man I had no stress, as you can guess
We were flipping lighters, man life couldn't be brighter
I was writing lots of lyrics, but man I'm not no writer oh
Flipping magazines, we were only teens
Had no visions, only to get famous and to be on televisions
Hanging records on my walls, from Snoop to Biggie Smalls
Yeah, everything was alright
Yeah, them bitches, yeah they were all tight
Not having you close her near
I never knew how hard it was, five blocks from my dealer
Had to take the bus, I gave him some dinero
Ain't no discuss, yeah no need to discuss
Because I'm vintage, and all of them bitches just want my inches
I'm fucking genius with my text, aye smashing your ex
Don't need no girlfriend it's all just complex aye
I'm like Tyler, but no gay
Fucking bitches in seven on those days, that's a week
I got a six-part, two packs weak
Bitch, I be tripping aye bitch, I be dripping aye
Bitch, I'm not skipping all these motherfucking stripper
Man I'm cold like ice man I'm hot like tea
Man, I'm not like you, cause I know what I see, and it's not always bright
So I mix my codeine with a bottle of Sprite (b-b-bottle of sprite)
Monday to Tuesday, to Wednesday to Thursday
My life is grey, black and white
Because I'm vintage, and all of them bitches just want my inches
I'm fucking genius with my text aye smashing your ex aye
Don't need no girlfriend it's all just complex aye
I'm like Tyler, but no gay
Fucking bitches in seven on those days, that's a week
I got a six-part, two packs weak
Credits
Writer(s): Albin Fransson
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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