paroles de chanson Fresh Outta London - Jake Paul

J-J-Joey

I don′t need new friends, I don't like fake friends
Only here to make M′s, call when the check in
I don't like partial, need the whole backend
Fresh outta London, she still got an accent
The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
I got me a bad bitch, the cover on Maxim
The comments is shook up, they throwin′ a tantrum, yeah

The wrist is flooded
No competition, can′t listen, ain't talkin′ 'bout shit
I′m lit, they know it
They wanna hate on the music, but I'm makin′ hits
These hundreds, I throw 'em
I need like 80 a show, that's some minimum shit
I leave the house, and I′m wearin′ some shit you can't get
And I swear this shit cost like a brick

I′ve been runnin' up M′s all week, I'm a vet
Quick trip for the bag, fell asleep on a jet
On a different time, this an Audemars Piguet
See eight bad bitches like the brand new ′Vette (skrrt)
We gon' get 'em all, why the fuck would I stress?

Think I need rehab, I′m addicted to a check
And she gon′ say it's love, but she know I want the sex
Bitch, don′t you dare leave a hickey on my neck
'Cause the Cullinan massage my back, I′m stressed (I'm stressed)
Stars in the roof get the bitch undressed
With an ass like that, I forget my ex (haha)

Racks like this meant that God, I′m blessed
I been on top, I should beat my chest
Tell you that she loyal, we gon' put her to the test
Wanna lose your bitch? Well, then be my guest
'Cause I been real cold in this Moncler vest

I don′t need new friends, I don′t like fake friends
Only here to make M's, call when the check in
I don′t like partial, need the whole backend
Fresh outta London, she still got an accent
The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
I got me a bad bitch, the cover on Maxim
The comments is shook up, they throwin′ a tantrum, yeah

The wrist is flooded
No competition, can't listen, ain′t talkin' 'bout shit
I′m lit, they know it
They wanna hate on the music, but I′m makin' hits
These hundreds, I throw ′em
I need like 80 a show, that's some minimum shit
I leave the house, and I′m wearin' some shit you can′t get
And I swear this shit cost like a brick