Rugz D. Bewler - Window Wavin' (feat. Curren$y) | Текст песни и Аккорды

• Тексты песен
• Rugz D. Bewler
• Window Wavin' (feat. Curren$y)

Chorus: (2 Times)
My life, consist of wavin out the window
Long trips and pools of the indo
Every city every flight
every day every night
All from one mic

Rugz:
I heard I had a fan in the south, matter fact she was my first
Lived in marieta, good girl went to church
Said she knew my whole verse cursed a little too much
Poppin pills I don't know, but hey whatever works
As long as my smooth voice, keeps it easy for her long night
A little Merlot, white paper, alright
Re-tweets everything I do off site
So an email shouldn't hurt
But as I got big, came more love
No love from me, but mainly just from her
Finally did a show, close to her city
and I didn't even hit her, Cole told her I was busy
Bout to get off stage, did her favorite song super bad
Got an email, like Rugzy I'm super sad
You tried to play me like you didn't wanna see me
But forever I'm ya fan, and I'm still gonna cop ya CD

(Chorus)

Curren$y:
Just as the wheels touch down I power up my phone
Let my girl know I'm in town and Imma need that bomb
Zig Zag that napalm joints, look like casted arms
slightly bent cuz it been in my pocket
Still hittin like a champ when you light it
This the dialog of pilots flippin through bitches like catalogs
Service merchandise, try it don't wife it
runnin wit my jet lifers
In the bay acapoco gold nugget 49ers
Fires from candle sticks park my car
But not that far, not tryna do all that walking
Lose ya panties and ya bra ain't tryna do all that talking
Girl, got a flight to new orleans in a few hours
is boarding, what we had was awesome and I'm thankful for it
It was one hell of night, to one hell of a morning
Jet life in between these verses like the chorus

(chours)

M.O. Lyrists:
Consist of broken hearts and big dreams
3 really good friends and some bomb weed
a couple dime bitches, some 2 and 3's
But they make up for it in they personality
Ski beatz mixed wit some hot lines
dumb rumors speadin through the grape vine
More books, a little less TV
more women, a little less groupies
I do my own thing, still chasin after paper
Em dot, still screaming fuck a hater
Can't stop, ambition wit no anchor
Hip hop, is filled wit so many wanksters
So i gotta keep it G
And focus on feedin my mind and family
Is that why ya'll mad at me?
If so sucka swallow my Anatomy