ฟังเพลงSlow Down Turbo (Explicit)

Song: Slow Down Turbo

Artist: Rich Brian

(Red Lamborghini, red Lamborghini)

(Autumn, Autumn)

(Light, light, light, light)

I ain't got no red Lamborghini and I ain't a model

Stars on my TV, I ain't got in color

I ain't got no red Lamborghini, no bubbles in my bottle

Damn, this is easy, but baby, I'm gon' run 'em

Let me, uh, shoot my shit real quick

When I shoot, ayy, they gon' get a top fade, ooh

She bad, and she always tryna rendezvous

Speak the truth, keep it 3K like I'm Andre

Can't relate to this, guess we grew 'round different things, man

When I shoot, ayy, they gon' get a top fade

This ain't horizontal, why you lookin' at me sideways?

Told the venue pay me stocks, I'm feelin' like Beyoncé

I won't ever quit, I was born to be the shit, ayy

Uh, how's it feel?

Been through ups and downs and they still ask me, "How's it feel?"

Face is hurtin' from the smiles, it's time to keep it real

I been in the booth like, "Who the fuck I gotta kill?"

Slow down, 'cause you're movin' too fast for the world

You're gonna miss out

Slow down, 'cause you're movin' too fast for the world

You're gonna miss out

Winter jacket on me, I love when it's cold out

Act so tough, tell me what you really know 'bout

Closed-eyed chronicles, slow ride carnivals, no lines audible

Your girl, my girl, it's all the same when she swallowin'

Aim my dick and I shoot her abdominals

My shit dope, always get people wonderin'

Your mirror broke 'cause it saw what's in front of it

Walkin' 'round, I'm feelin' like a fully-loaded weapon

I just gave you dick, girl, why do you keep askin' for a present?

Actin' hella fed up, bitch, I'm never givin' no more credits

And my credit card ain't set up, send me money through the FedEx

Everybody sleepin' on me, ain't nobody tryna get up

I just bought another mirror, hope I see somebody better

I don't wanna play no game, lil' bitch, I'm on another level

See me at the bakery, I'm tryna get my fuckin' bread up

Serve it with some mozzarella, drippin' on you mothafuckas

You gon' need to buy umbrellas, you gon' see me at Coachella

Fuck your mothafuckin' head up, she lookin' like Cinderella

Man, your girl is gettin' wetter, we about to go meta

(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)

Hold 50 bands, been on road like 50 days

I got hella songs inside the vault that I already made

Yeah, we gon' deliver this in five business days

I sell shows like my fuckin' name Billy Mays

These hoes all around me fake, they all Vinny Chase

Your girl already know the Wi-Fi at my place

I called her December, she drove in the rain

She got banned from Uber, she drove the minivan