paroles de chanson U Feel Me - Dom Corleo

What do you think? Oh, baby
Do you think we already know what's good?
What do you feel? Oh, tell me
Do you think that we're being too lazy?

Yeah, smokin' in my tech gear
Slime 'em in my tech gear
Off the 'shrooms, I see clear
Sippin' lean, I'on sip no beer
I'on pop no more Percs, I'm clear
But I'm poppin' that Perc' for the one time
Fuckin' this ho but I only do one time
Fuck all the hate 'cause I know that it's my time
Fuck all the hate, yeah, I stay up on my grind
Get on the beat and I eat up like lunchtime
Yeah, I'm in New York, I'm with Lunchbox
I got a pole, this on me, I don't do boxing
Me and my plug, we the Batman and new Robin
Remember I was broke as fuck, I ain't do backseat
But I got a blank and I still chop 'em
I ain't wan' get into cheeks, but I still got 'em
Everything I rock unique, yeah, I'm still poppin'
Look at me poppin' my shit, bitch
Heh, and you ain't on shit, bitch
I just went in, bought a Rick fit
Look at me spreading my racks, bitch
I got the cheese, I got ham
I'm in this shit like a bad kid
I'on even need no adlibs
Walk in this ho with the cash, yo
You're draggin' the flow, she got ass, yo
I'on even puff, I just pass, yo
I'm signing up 'cause I'm they dad, yeah
Fuck the opps, I got a bag, yeah

Honestly, who is the richer man?
Yes, I got on my AP, no Richard Mille
Yeah, my diamonds, they VVS, super clean
And my Rick Owens fit, don't rock Helmut Lang
When I walked in the store, I bought everything
When I walk in the store, I just buy out yo' bitch, yeah
I just brought out yo' bitch, uh
Front row to my show, yeah
And then she ate the dick, yeah
But she ain't get a tip, huh
But she did get the tip, huh
And I'm five star dining, yeah
But I ain't leave a tip
No, I'm not that choosy
And I don't care if you choose me
If I was a team, I would choose me
But I'm talkin' 'bout just me
'Cause I don't know nobody who do the shit I do
In this Tesla, I'm rollin' my eyes, dude
Goin' kamikaze right past you
Pay attention 'cause time finna pass you

Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa

Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa, whoa, whoa
Whoa

Yeah, smokin' in my tech gear
Slime 'em in my tech gear
Off the 'shrooms, I see clear
Sippin' lean, I'on sip no beer
I'on pop no more Percs, I'm clear
But I'm poppin' that Perc' for the one time
Fuckin' this ho but I only do one time
Fuck all the hate 'cause I know that it's my time
Fuck all the hate, yeah, I stay up on my grind
Get on the beat and I eat up like lunchtime
Yeah, I'm in New York, I'm with Lunchbox
I got a pole, this on me, I don't do boxing
Me and my plug, we the Batman and new Robin
Remember I was broke as fuck, I ain't do backseat
But I got a blank and I still chop 'em
I ain't wan' get into cheeks, but I still got 'em
Everything I rock unique, yeah, I'm still poppin'
Look at me poppin' my shit, bitch
Heh, and you ain't on shit, bitch
I just went in, bought a Rick fit
Look at me spreading my racks, bitch
I got the cheese, I got ham
I'm in this shit like a bad kid
I'on even need no adlibs
Walk in this ho with the cash, yo
You're draggin' the flow, she got ass, yo
I'on even puff, I just pass, yo
I'm signing up 'cause I'm they dad, yeah
Fuck the opps, I got a bag, yeah