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Oh!
Shout out to Alizz
Your face on the mobile fixed on the screen
And on my mobile there are still two stripes
Everything I love breaks or bursts
How good is your ass inside that 'tights (alas!), Eh
I replace my addiction with another one
Boot that ass and it sounds plas-plas
I never do well with others (no!)
I escape and go to gas (skrt!)
If twenty more want to throw me no problem
If you cried for me, I don't deserve it (nah!)
If I die today, tell me, would you cry for me?
At this point there is no need to lie, brunette
I'm going to rot anyway
If I think of you I only think of the good things
Pay attention to your friends and forget me (eh)
Bury me like a piti in the sand
It's just sex, explain that it doesn't bite
There is no fishing in this river that splashes me
I got it to 'by the palique, to' by the palique
I'm inside the hole, golf and cricket (sca!)
And more alone, the freer
But what is a fucking streak for a tiger?
Another rapper in Spain cries this weekend
Because they can't even follow me
I let him fall asleep if he looks like you
In three hours my flight, bitch, get out of here
Having breakfast Xanax inside a duty-free
Fking with the flight attendant ten thousand feet from Madrid
There is nothing to do, bitch, don't cry for me
They want my body, but the dead one is here
Hey, Spanish Jay Z
Escaping for 'ahead, mama, pray for me
Legend or nothing else, a Lambo and I put gas (ga ')
Ten thousand pounds, all in cash (skrt!)
A whore in the hotel and another whore in the motel
Life are ranks, tell me, where are you? (I go)
In New York spitting grief at the 'Yankees (uh)
Behind the million and diamonds (uh)
You forgot the most important things (uh!)
I hope you remember me 'as it was before
(Brunette, throw me a kiss)
Let me ease the weight and spend the cheese (cheese!)
I bought you a couple of things to move that
With that booty it hit you to the bone (uh)
I have dinner on the yacht, you showcase
Look at the score, bitch, I don't have a draw (no)
My face in the Forbes, in the reports
Negotiating a kilo while reading sports (uh)
And in the chewing club a bubbaloo (uh)
On my neck hangs' the chain and the cross (ah)
Hard to imitate, I speak with attitude
And in the end you want to fuck without turning off the light
I let him fall asleep if he looks like you
In three hours my flight, bitch, get out of here
Having breakfast Xanax inside a duty-free
Fking with the flight attendant ten thousand feet from Madrid
There is nothing to do, bitch, don't cry for me
They want my body, but the dead one is here
Spanish Jay Z
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