WILLY WONKA Lyrics

This life here, i'm a vibe pioneer

Flight to Budapest, private jet lear

Message at the tone gettin dome hard to steer

Fucking in the mirror she be wearing mickey ears

I'm a double entendre, King Kong conquerer

Slide on the beat like Jesus on water

Since i was a nino, swear my life bonkers

Top hat swag, velvet jacket, Willy Wonka

Boy he hot

But I haven't sweat in centuries

D'usse shots, blood pumping' John Kennedy

Boy he hot

Big bag don't be mad at me

Kid went pop, now the wrist got vanity

Boy he hot

I don't think yall understanding me

Three car garage, four cars, a calamity

No caveats, at the restaurant casually

New kids bop, new rich identity

Put it on the pinky ring

Lady's say, "got damn"

Pause on the gemstones

Jim Jones, robbed em'

Rolled and I slipped blows

Rose outta Gotham

Hos and the nymphos

Oh man I got them

Boogy to the beat

Lil buddy lend a ear

Liquor before beer

Baby bubba then you're clear

You could have it all

A Givenchy chandelier

Live a 100 years, If you never live in fear

Boy he hot

But I haven't sweat in centuries

D'usse shots, blood pumping' John Kennedy

Boy he hot

Big bag don't be mad at me

Kid went pop, now the wrist got vanity

Boy he hot

I don't think yall understanding me

Three car garage, four cars, a calamity

No caveats, at the restaurant casually

New kids bop, new rich identity

Doug Dimmadome

Went an bought an El Camino

Used to know a chump got wrapped by the prenup

Know a couple chaps got wrapped by a female

Me i can't do that get back no subpoenas

Got a bubba on my wrist it look sick when i'm at the keynote

No Adidas on my feet no no never no NMD ho

No opinions nah uh

We know we on the way to the final

I do keto get aminos, i'm built like a superhero

Dom Pérignon please, i'm dining at Francine

A couple of more drinks they taking my cars keys

Like jesus

I don't need respect just believers

Long as in the end they spend 10 on a t-shirt

One lil bitch i'm doing it full time

Two needa rinse im covered in court fines

Three with the clique a fit and some pork rinds

Four in the mix we gettin lit oh god

Boy he hot

But I haven't sweat in centuries

D'usse shots, blood pumping' John Kennedy

Boy he hot

Big bag don't be mad at me

Kid went pop, now the wrist got vanity

Boy he hot

I don't think yall understanding me

Three car garage, four cars, a calamity

No caveats, at the restaurant casually

New kids bop, new rich identity