[Dua Saleh:]
Don’t you try me, if you hit the town, I’ll paint it red
And if you decide to hit my phone I’ll leave your ass on read
Don’t keep climbing, I’ll go crazy, twist and turn in bed
And if you decline my love my molten skin will surely shed
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner in the ranks and the bout
I’ma be the glimmer in the eyes of the snout
Twelve that shimmer like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no clout
Slum in the sky
Spaceship fears
I’ma leave a bottle of the stained glass tears
Plum in the rye
Hopped up peers
I’ma leave a gallon of the same old years
Sum of the times
Bane of the ears
No antenna on the moonlit gears
Climate dripped up
Ice unclear
Flames of the piles in the hemisphere
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner in the ranks and the bout
I’ma be the glimmer in the eyes of the snout
Twelve that shimmer like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no clout
Don’t you try me, if you hit the town, I’ll paint it red
And if you decide to hit my phone I’ll leave your ass on read
Don’t keep climbing, I’ll go crazy, twist and turn in bed
And if you decline my love my molten skin will surely shed
[Bas:]
Yeah
Swear you’re like my Vegas nights
All the vices I’m afraid to fight
Stay the night
We could light it like sage
When the scene is all staged
We could burn the last page
And rewrite
That’s sage advice
I let you pick and I pay the price
The plug here
I guess we runnin’ from the same things
That’s a great thing
I been low, you create wings
I see your glow, you luminate
Like exit signs to your bedroom
I’m facedown in your heirlooms
Your legs tight like legumes
They good for me
They good for me (They good for me)
Beautiful and bittersweet
Bite my tongue and bite the bullet
Life too short to fight the moment
Jump up on it (Jump up on it)
Leave me with my miseries
Turn my phone on airplane mode
And light me like it’s propane
Blowing through the breeze
Before you freeze
Over on me can you lean
Over and pull me in closer
And pitch it to me overhand?
Love me like it’s Notre Dame
Quasimodo growing quasi feelings for you
I been fiending for you
[Dua Saleh:]
Take a picture, crop that nigga out
Call me Saint Peter, got a hook for the mount
Hear the flicker of the gas to the mouth
Graze my dinner in the middle of the drought
Take the winner in the ranks and the bout
I’ma be the glimmer in the eyes of the snout
Twelve that shimmer like a sunlit scout
Pigs no printer, no claim, no c-
www.pillowlyrics.com
419786
497975
88k
20