Lyrics:
mio respiro proprio come Whitney Houston
Attratto dai suoi tratti nel suo volto Non ti tratterò del corpo
Perché pure quello è troppo e non puoi darmi
no Whitney Aye,
Wasteey verse
yuh, yuh, aye, once I, once I, once I
get it
Stackin' up this money, yeah l'm stacking up the digits
Saggy ass, saggy
Fly out to Houston I need line ain't talking fucking Whitney
(Ain't Whitney Houston)
You think I'm fine on the outside, but inside I ain't living (I'm
I spent me a 50
You can't keep up with me
I might do a show out in Houston like Whitney
All my boys with me
If shit's getting gritty
I'm not like
take it with me
Bad bitch with tig ol' bitties down in Houston, she my Whitney
Geeked together, geeked forever, have my kids or have kidneys
They clever,
one
It's getting late to convince me
You've been hurting all alone, you miss me
Houston, we got a problem with Whitney
Too turnt, can't move, come get
overdosing like they're Whitney Houston
I look at this shit like it's the mother fucking hunger games
Kill or be killed
Who's gonna stand with me anyways
I
and shut your motherfuckin' mouths
Robert Downey, Bobby Brownie, Whitney Houston the shit she's using
Jesse Jackson, reverend scandal, got George
mean when I say 50 50, up in Houston with
Bitches like Whitney that see me as coke and they can’t wait to sniff me, I got talent You
Niggas ain’t
an hour flat
Acapella, nigga, way off the sour pack
You nice my nig devoured that
A diesel when I'm on the track
Whitney Houston way before the crack
Bobby
mama, she gots the tongue you see?
Whitney Houston, that's my mentor all the way
Umm, Aretha Franklin much respect to her
Stevie Wonder, umm, who else?
wanna, I don't wanna (yeah)
Compare me to my whip, 'cause if you push, I start
No Whitney Houston here, don't need no bodyguard
That poker face don't
couvert, j'ai mis mon gilet
PD de flic, mets le dans ton cul ton sifflet
Dans ta chatte: je fais une soufflette
Oui, t'es tout "stone"
Comme Whitney Houston
(CHNOUF)
LES BOLOSS HIPPY COMME À WOODSTOCK (HIPPY)
BAILS D’OVERDOSE COMME WHITNEY HOUSTON (WHITNEY)
LA DOULEUR PASSE MIEUX QUAND T’ES BIEN STONE (STONE)
that thang
And by thang
I mean my dangalang
You don't even wanna see what it can do, yuh, yuh, yuh
Yuh, yuh
They call me Kanye West
Pectus Gang,
nuts I bust 'em one by one
So what's the 4-1-1 hun?
Dreams of fucking an R&B bitch
I'm just playing, but I'm saying
Dreams of fucking an R&B bitch
drown all these haters, rest in peace to Whitney Houston
Cars, money, girls and the clothes
Aw man, you sold your soul
Naw man, mad people was frontin'
Aw
Whitney Houston aimait le crack
J't'aime plus que les gothiques aiment les coins lugubres
J't'aime plus que les diabétiques aiment le sucre
J't'aime
the judge, wouldn't cut you no slack
Ima call y'all Whitney Houston, cause it must be crack
Feeling like Drake the way I'm coming back to back
And with
gonna make you real chilly (Pew)
I'm out in Houston with Whitney
I'm with your bitch and we sippin' on Whitney (Sippin on Whitney)
She wanna know what's
Whitney Houston (huh)
He got caught without it, now they robbin' him for his rubies (woah)
He wouldn't give it up so he got buried in his Cuban (it's
stuck like I made a thousand rappers put shackles on they feet wit me,
And then I broke free, I'll let 'em loose when Bobby Brown and Whitney Houston
Yeah, Whitney Houston, bro serving Whitney Houston
Took a bad bitch out the projects, fuck her good and brought her booted
Thuggin' hard like
ma lady
En mode love, en mode soul ou R&B
Marvin Gaye, Whitney Houston ou R kelly
Rythment nos ébats jusqu'au bout de la nuit
La BO d'ma vie c'est ma
.JPEG/211px-Whitney_Houston_(cropped3).JPEG "Whitney Houston"){kind=spacer}
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