Private Valet
Lyrics
Yo, don't ever call yourself a man if you can't keep your composure, nigga
Straight up (straight up), it's a little game for you
Uh, back on my shit, fresh off the tour bus
Straight back to it though (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Yeah, Lambo Evo press a couple buttons parked it right by the speed boat
Sipping on some real shit, touchdown Chi town making a real bitch
Colored eyes brown skin and you know she real thick
'Nother half a million dollars spent but I sleep good
Talking big numbers with the bitch while I grip the wood
Check it out, all these big facts though she head me out
Heated toilets in the bathroom, sending emails out
She got a whole situation
But ready to risk it all
I ain't with the drama
When you ready, just give me a call
I know I'm just checking the mail but got that shit on (for real)
I'm a little younger than dude but still big bro
When the sky so cold (so cold, so cold)
They don't got no love for you, love for you, love for you
When the sky so cold (so cold, so cold)
They don't got no love for you, love for you, love for you
Yeah, ayy, ayy, ayy
I can talk like this 'cause I live that
You niggas know my background, don't play with it
Hothead, short-tempered quick to tote the semi
It get foggy in my city, can't be acting timid
Might do the mink with the midnight
Doors open up on the Lamborghini like fisheye
Nigga this my new trap, vacuum seal my adlibs and then I send them to the track
When the sky so cold (so cold, so cold)
They don't got no love for you, love for you, love for you
When the sky so cold (so cold, so cold)
They don't got no love for you, love for you, love for you
Yeah, ayy, ayy, ayy
Gotta stay on your ten, nigga
It's a lot of eyes on you
Move smart, nigga
Nigga this my new trap, vacuum seal my adlibs and then I send them to the track, wild
Writer(s): Larry Eugene Hendricks
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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