Breakfast in Dresses (feat. Manolo Rose)
Too many shots you wasn't ready
And the night is just beginning
Like when niggas can't hang with me
We keep turn it up, club lit as fuck
Now just let that 808 drop
Bottle service, that's a given
Sparks they flying, all through our section
In our zone, so yeah we're felxin'
Why y'all over there just standing, pretending
Every night my girls we do this
A couple baddies and come cuties
No hating in my clip, zero fucks
We don't give none, let them bubbles hit them lips
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
My body covered all in gold player
No feeling around here, I'm so cold player
The only change you'll see is my necklace
Can't cuff me, yeah I said it
So click with it, sick with it
Straight up OJ, no sippin' it
Follow me close you still ain't gettin' it
No hating in my clip, zero fucks
We don't give none, let them bubbles hit them lips
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
10am on the wake up
First of cinema, get her cake up
No filter, ass flat, she don't know hot to be a faker
I described her look on the wake up
Let em paint you a picture of her nightlife
Dior dress fit like a glove, and the shoes like she stepped in blood
The sparkers they come to her section, niggas coming from different direction
Hoping she give you a drink, nigga you thirsty (she flexin)
I just painted the picture of her nightlife
Let me describe you my niggas what my night like
Mister and Missis Rose, no problem when she wanna sleep
Slik sheets meeting in my bedroom, y'ain't what she tryna freak
I just painted the picture of a bad bitch, y'ain the one I'm tryna keep, my God
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
My ladies taste it
My fellas taste it
My homies taste it
My ladies taste it
My fellas taste it
My homies taste it
And the night is just beginning
Like when niggas can't hang with me
We keep turn it up, club lit as fuck
Now just let that 808 drop
Bottle service, that's a given
Sparks they flying, all through our section
In our zone, so yeah we're felxin'
Why y'all over there just standing, pretending
Every night my girls we do this
A couple baddies and come cuties
No hating in my clip, zero fucks
We don't give none, let them bubbles hit them lips
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
My body covered all in gold player
No feeling around here, I'm so cold player
The only change you'll see is my necklace
Can't cuff me, yeah I said it
So click with it, sick with it
Straight up OJ, no sippin' it
Follow me close you still ain't gettin' it
No hating in my clip, zero fucks
We don't give none, let them bubbles hit them lips
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Sippin' champagne in my breakfast
And we're still in our party dresses
10am on the wake up
First of cinema, get her cake up
No filter, ass flat, she don't know hot to be a faker
I described her look on the wake up
Let em paint you a picture of her nightlife
Dior dress fit like a glove, and the shoes like she stepped in blood
The sparkers they come to her section, niggas coming from different direction
Hoping she give you a drink, nigga you thirsty (she flexin)
I just painted the picture of her nightlife
Let me describe you my niggas what my night like
Mister and Missis Rose, no problem when she wanna sleep
Slik sheets meeting in my bedroom, y'ain't what she tryna freak
I just painted the picture of a bad bitch, y'ain the one I'm tryna keep, my God
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
Cake up, laced up, no fakers around here
My ladies taste it
My fellas taste it
My homies taste it
My ladies taste it
My fellas taste it
My homies taste it
Credits
Writer(s): Brian Garcia, Audrey Rose
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.