Testo della canzone Feelin' Myself (explicit) (will.i.am feat. Miley Cyrus, Wiz Khalifa, French Montana & DJ Mustard), tratta dall'album Feelin' Myself

Feelin' Myself (explicit) - will.i.am feat. Miley Cyrus, Wiz Khalifa, French Montana & DJ Mustard

Woo! Ayy!
W-W-W-Willpower
Mustard on the beat, ho

I be everywhere, everybody know me
Super, super fresh with a dope styling
Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck
Givenchy keep the chicks in check
All these car keys drive them chicks to my crib
Dru Hill? Got somebody sleeping on my bed
She give me IQ, that mean she give me head
I just give her beats, I don't give her bread

'Cause we be in the club, bottles on deck
And god dammit, god dammit I'm feelin' myself
'Cause I'm gon' get it all, and I'ma throw it up
Like god dammit, god dammit, I'm feelin' myself
Look up in the mirror, the mirror look at me
The mirror be like, baby, you the shit god dammit
You the shit, you the shit, you the shit god dammit
You the shit god dammit, you the shit, you the shit (Yes, sir!)

I be everywhere, everybody know me
Catch me in the club hundred bottles on me
I get busy like a one line
In the drop getting head, baby, never mind
We gettin' money why you playing with it
Pool in the crib you could land a water plane in it
Slick Rick looking at the mirror
Big Daddy Kane bitch like Shakira
1.5 custom made car
Me and Will table looking like the bar
I love bad bitches that's my fuckin' problem
And I don't give a fuck that's my fuckin' problem

And I don't give a fuck that's my whole M.O
I rock the whole globe with no problemo
Been rocking coats since my first demo
And now I'm banging hoes in the Continental
And I done seen me slidin' out my dope ride
I open up the doors, suicide
I came from the bottom, the sewer side
I made it to the top cause I do it fly
Feelin' fuckin' lucky like the fuckin' Irish
I see the whole game from my third iris
I tour the whole word like a dirty pirate
To give the whole club some Miley Cyrus

Now everybody trippin' like they poppin' molly
Up in the club, is where you'll find me
I do it real big never do it tiny
If you about that bullshit please don't remind me
I step in this motherfucker just to make it work
I get on the floor just to make that booty twerk
Shake, shake that shit like a, like an expert
Shake, shake that shit like a, like an expert

I be everywhere, everybody know me
Super, super fresh with a dope styling
Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck
Givenchy keep the chicks in check
All these car keys drive them chicks to my crib
Dru Hill? Got somebody sleeping on my bed
She give me IQ, that mean she give me head
I just give her beats, I don't give her bread

'Cause we be in the club, bottles on deck
And god dammit, god dammit I'm feelin' myself
'Cause I'm gon' get it all, and I'ma throw it up
Like god dammit, god dammit I'm feelin' myself
Look up in the mirror, the mirror look at me
The mirror be like baby you the shit god dammit
You the shit, you the shit, you the shit god dammit
You the shit god dammit, you the shit, you the shit (Yes, sir!)

Doobie in my hand, Rollie on my wrist
Got a bottle of that thousand dollar champagne in my fist
Women in your dreams sleep in my bed
So I don't need your brains I need my ass kissed
But all my homies like give me some head
Smoke joints till our eyes turn Indian red
Takes shots till our chests burn
We got papers, bottles, mollies, all this let's get it started
The bigger the bill, the bigger you ball
The bigger the watch, the bigger the car, the bigger the star
The bigger the chain, the farther you go, you already know
The bigger the bank, that's more hoes, nigga
And I done spent a quarter milli' on clothes
Coppin' them old schools and puttin' foreigns on the road
Real talk and if my fuel get low
I roll up another joint take a shot and reload, pow!

I be everywhere, everybody know me
Super, super fresh with a dope styling
Hunny on my wrist, couple karats on my neck
Givenchy keep the chicks in check
All these car keys drive them chicks to my crib
Dru Hill? Got somebody sleeping on my bed
She give me IQ, that mean she give me head
I just give her beats, I don't give her bread

'Cause we be in the club, bottles on deck
And god dammit, god dammit I'm feelin' myself
'Cause I'm gon' get it all, and I'ma throw it up
Like god dammit, god dammit I'm feelin' myself
Look up in the mirror, the mirror look at me
The mirror be like baby you the shit god dammit
You the shit, you the shit, you the shit god dammit
You the shit god dammit, you the shit, you the shit (Yes, sir!)



Credits
Writer(s): Bryan Lawayne Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link

Disclaimer: i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia un artista o un publisher.

© 2021 Riproduzione riservata. Rockol.com S.r.l.
Policy uso immagini

Rockol

  • Utilizza solo immagini e fotografie rese disponibili a fini promozionali (“for press use”) da case discografiche, agenti di artisti e uffici stampa.
  • Usa le immagini per finalità di critica ed esercizio del diritto di cronaca, in modalità degradata conforme alle prescrizioni della legge sul diritto d'autore, utilizzate ad esclusivo corredo dei propri contenuti informativi.
  • Accetta solo fotografie non esclusive, destinate a utilizzo su testate e, in generale, quelle libere da diritti.
  • Pubblica immagini fotografiche dal vivo concesse in utilizzo da fotografi dei quali viene riportato il copyright.
  • È disponibile a corrispondere all'avente diritto un equo compenso in caso di pubblicazione di fotografie il cui autore sia, all'atto della pubblicazione, ignoto.

Segnalazioni

Vogliate segnalarci immediatamente la eventuali presenza di immagini non rientranti nelle fattispecie di cui sopra, per una nostra rapida valutazione e, ove confermato l’improprio utilizzo, per una immediata rimozione.