Домой Тексты песен Christian Dior Denim Flow

Christian Dior Denim Flow

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[Hook:]
I got the world in my hands, the master plan,
But I don’t know why I keep calling (why I keep calling).
All of these girls at my shows they loving me,
But I don’t know why I keep calling,
Why I keep calling you.
All the models to the floor right now!
[Kanye West:]
I’m in my Christian Dior with a Veronica Webb,
Noemie Lenoir, Chanel, Sessilee Lopez,
Arlenis Sosa, Selita Ebanks,
Grew up on Mobb Deep, speak that Jourdan Dunn language.
Make a phone call, out to Joan Smalls,
I wonder how it feel to lower Stone’s walls,
Jessica Gomes, y’all, I would damage her,
And see, if Jessica Stam got the stamina.
I’m in the car with Leo and the Benz swerve,
I heard Bar was friends with Esti Ginzburg,
Coco Rocha, Kate Mimosa,
Alessandra Ambrosio, Anja Rubik
Get Olga Kurylenko, tell her I’m very single,
Abbey Lee too, I’m a freak boo.
I’m wilding, I’m on a thousand,
I wanna see Irina Shayk next to Doutzen.
[Hook]
[Kanye West:]
Christian Dior denim flow.
I told her I’m trying to eat out,
So what we going for dinner for?
[Pusha T:]
Miami nights on the search for some T and A,
Trying to hide what’s obvious to see in me.
We conversate a bit about your DNA,
And my salmon-colored suits from the VMA.
Oh, you was watching? Who the fuck wasn’t?
Me skip across that stage in 5 dozen, egghck!
Yeah, six grand for a minute’s time,
Italian Vogue style a nigga for a minute rhyme.
Let’s be clear and let’s be fair.
The best things in music’s being offered here,
It’s a round table full of bosses here,
Still giving you it all like the coffin’s near.
[Hook]
[Ryan Leslie:]
It’s time for a lesson in model behavior.
Damn, look at all the bad bitches I gave you,
Man, I can see the flaws to your flavor.
Look like Wonder Woman and still need a savior,
Maybe it’s a billionaire, maybe it’s the cocaine.
I done seen drugs and money run the whole game.
A good girl lost in the city life.
Agent Provocateur, hold them titties right.
I’m haute couture of hoes galore,
Give my girl a Newport ’cause she’s smoking yours.
I’m the authority of model seniority,
They call me Les but they all need more of me.
[Lloyd Banks:]
Handcraft material, champagne for cereal.
Shorty stole my heart, criminal, my lucky charm.
Fly clothes and Lear shows the kind of stuff we on.
Stuff all my problems in that bong and I’m puffing strong.
I been locked in my way of thinking, now my cuffs are gone.
Must’ve been the liquor talking, I’m begging the cups, c’mon!
Might come off as irregular, I come in custom form.
T-G-I-F, GT breeze, my hustler’s poem.
My sound’s full-grown, reminds me of my favorite chronic. (Kush!)
Ball like a Super
Sonic, make the haters vomit. (Uh!)
Nigga, make some money ‘fore you make a comment,
I meant to snap a while ago, but who knows where the time went?
Prolly dime chicks, whips with a Diddy,
Now I’m back like a nine milli, running New York City,
See me clearly through the storm,
The world’s mine, sits pretty in my palm,
Chandon as we continue on.
[Hook]
[Kid Cudi:]
Niggas think they know I’m the guy with the story.
They don’t really know what’s in my head fucking with me.
How can I be better?
I could start with just the basics,
Dior, Dior, galore, I love the cut,
I seem to have forgotten that I’m off the nini.
To the people who don’t know Cud, know what?
Rose gold presidential on my bony wrist,
Took my ma to Chanel, had her LC the stunner.
She got haters, some in the fam made us,
But they don’t really matter, we escape them with our paper.
Hey ya! I’m on my André 3000.
I’m all good now, a nigga don’t need no counseling.
Woke up in the room and my mojo was active,
Looks from the hoes that were more than likely passive,
Back then let me not reflect on the old shit.
I’m on to the new act, on to my new script.
Bitches better have they thoughts before approaching,
I done heard it all, baby, save it for them other niggas.
Do things off-beat for a living, haters copy, I’m the image,
Haters copy, I’m the image.