PAID - TOBi

PAID - TOBi

  • Ano de lançamento: 2020
  • Linguagem: Inglês
  • Duração: 3:41

Abaixo está a letra da música PAID , artista - TOBi com tradução

Letra da música " PAID "

Texto original com tradução

PAID

TOBi

Yeah, yeah, I don’t give a fuck, yeah

And it feels so good

I don’t give a fuck, yeah

I was raised with a wooden spoon

Which felt denser than silver

Its contents were hot

Through caring hands delivered

I’m grateful and paid in full

I love you, Mitch

But it’s time I go on my own

Hey, ah, uh

Hey

Whoa

Look, I ain’t no little dude

I ain’t no punk

I ain’t no child

Gettin' ridiculed by swimming pools like

«Fools, I ain’t gon' jump»

Nah, I split your crew like syllables

When an imbecile read a word that’s a little too difficult

For his mental state

Kung Lao with the finish move

Double the principal off the interest rate

Mmm, that’s the power of potential

That’s the power I shower on instrumentals

Mo' money, mo' problems, I’m so sorry

I don’t subscribe by it, let me find out myself

Mot till I’m post mortem

Wrote 'bout it

Locker room shame I ain’t changin' for nobody

You know 'bout it, you nobody

Hmm, hey, and it’s our season

Saucy got me blowin' trees and all the above

I was raised with a wooden spoon

Which felt denser than silver

Its contents were hot

Through caring hands delivered

I’m grateful and paid in full

I love you, Mitch

But it’s time I go

I feel sorry for boys

Actin' rich, but they’re poor

Buyin' bottles at clubs

But they sleep on the floor

It’s the things we were taught

He be singin' along

How he got a Bugatti

But he can’t afford a Ford?

Or get behind a Honda

Get your life in Accord

Introduced since the cradle

Don’t be stuck till the morgue

Now I’m killin' 'em all

With a red dot

Soon as Nate Smith hit record

It’s a head shot

Pop, pop, pop, my Lord

Bring it on, bring it on

Oh, mi cherie amor

She jumpin' for joy

Her True Religion is Christian Dior

And Louboutin, either or

We settlin' scores

We ain’t lookin' for war

We just lookin' to even the score

Step inside a court like

«Yeah, bitch, I’m here, nigga

Here’s fifty to clear, I share with you

I gotcha, I’m sure you’re gonna share with us»

Hmm, I sound off to the sound of counterclockwise

Mmm, to the houses where we got the dress in gold, black

Huh, I got 'em bouncin' to the beat, make your baby drop down

Hmm

I was raised with a wooden spoon

Which felt denser than silver

Its contents were hot

Through caring hands delivered

I’m grateful and paid in full

I love you, Mitch

But it’s time I go on my own too

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