Brighton Beach Songtext
von Da$H
Brighton Beach Songtext
Say Jude I really wanna see you nude
I don′t mean to be rude though (yeah)
Say Jude I really wanna see you nude
I don't mean to be rude though (yeah)
King Of spades, bitch from Spain, it′s the kitchen maid
Getting paid at a rate my mother in disarray
Wrote the book and never read a page
Burn a 50 feeling like Nickie Cage
Gone in 60 seconds
Every time we speak you cry, that's why I stick to texting
Smoked a bowl before I sent the message
Say we homies 'til the very ending
Say without me you′ll die
Can′t reply so I just hit the exit
Fuck, just my luck, in the terminal, pissy drunk
Catch a flight across the country just to chase a buck
Rolling stone, rolling stone, call too many place home at times
How many lives I'm living, 4 or 5
Each one I′m surely high
Yuri Orlov
Fake ID as I'm checking in the Waldorf
A fuckin′ warlord
Russian escort who going to blow me 'til my balls sore
Fuck you think I laid these bars for?
Car door open backwards
Bitch′s ass like an allergic reaction
She service my faction
Smoke some shit that should've came with a caption
All my actions be considered as classic
Free maverick, nigga
Free maverick and all my other cold b's
Every chance I get I tell a cop to blow me
Breath smell like a 40 and a half an ounce
Bitch′s home town be some shit a nigga can′t pronounce
Stash the drug in her lips that's under her salmon blouse
Life a movie by the way this shit is panning out (Nah mean?)
Caught up with my greens, indo and cash flow
Own mother think I′m an asshole
So? Think I care about about a bashful nigga?
Better hope that I don't catch you, nigga
Stomp your boss your team will take a lost
Slide off in the beigest Porsche (Nigga)
Your team make the rules, my niggas breaks the laws, just a corpse
I don′t mean to be rude though (yeah)
Say Jude I really wanna see you nude
I don't mean to be rude though (yeah)
King Of spades, bitch from Spain, it′s the kitchen maid
Getting paid at a rate my mother in disarray
Wrote the book and never read a page
Burn a 50 feeling like Nickie Cage
Gone in 60 seconds
Every time we speak you cry, that's why I stick to texting
Smoked a bowl before I sent the message
Say we homies 'til the very ending
Say without me you′ll die
Can′t reply so I just hit the exit
Fuck, just my luck, in the terminal, pissy drunk
Catch a flight across the country just to chase a buck
Rolling stone, rolling stone, call too many place home at times
How many lives I'm living, 4 or 5
Each one I′m surely high
Yuri Orlov
Fake ID as I'm checking in the Waldorf
A fuckin′ warlord
Russian escort who going to blow me 'til my balls sore
Fuck you think I laid these bars for?
Car door open backwards
Bitch′s ass like an allergic reaction
She service my faction
Smoke some shit that should've came with a caption
All my actions be considered as classic
Free maverick, nigga
Free maverick and all my other cold b's
Every chance I get I tell a cop to blow me
Breath smell like a 40 and a half an ounce
Bitch′s home town be some shit a nigga can′t pronounce
Stash the drug in her lips that's under her salmon blouse
Life a movie by the way this shit is panning out (Nah mean?)
Caught up with my greens, indo and cash flow
Own mother think I′m an asshole
So? Think I care about about a bashful nigga?
Better hope that I don't catch you, nigga
Stomp your boss your team will take a lost
Slide off in the beigest Porsche (Nigga)
Your team make the rules, my niggas breaks the laws, just a corpse
Writer(s): Darien Corey Dash Jr., Malcolm Joshua Martin Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com