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Frank Ocean
Pink matter (feat. Andre 3000 & Big Boi)
Frank Ocean - Pink matter (feat. Andre 3000 & Big Boi)
[Big Boi] Remix![Frank] And the peaches and the mangos you could sell for me...[Frank Ocean]What do you think my brain is made for?Is it, just a container for the mind?This great, grey matter...Sensei replied, "What is your woman?Is she, just a container for the child?"That soft pink matter.. cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh-ooh-ooohhh..Close my eyes and, fall into you, you, yoooouuuu...My god, she’s givin' me - pleeeeasure... whoooa-na-naWhat if the sky and the stars are for showand the, aliens are watchin' live?From the purple, matter...Sensei went quiet, then violentAnd we, sparred until we both grew tiredNothing mattered.. cotton candy, Majin Buu, ooh, ooh, OOH-oooohhDim the lights and, fall into - YOU, YOU, YOOOUUU-ohhooooohhhMY GOD, givin' me pleeeeasure~! PLEEEEEASUREEEE..PLEASURE, pleasure - pleasure over matter...(Heeeeey...)[Big Boi]Doesn't matter if she want to be with me so it's coolI make her call me B.B. King because I give her the +blues+But not on purpose, though, she was the perfect ho-stess, when I come over, we would do the grossestMost beautifulest things on a bed of rosesIt would be the coldest when you hit the hardwood floorWe sippin' Yak, not mimosasShe's in my naked lap, going ham like she supposed toAnd she could make it clap if I told herOr make her ass spread like the back of a cobra'sDown there in her titties like a soldierA G.I. Joe, man; see me, I go inASK A BITCH, NIGGA... ("Yeah, that nigga goes up in it")Like smoke through a chimneySlow stroke, cause she feelin' me up in her, niggaKillin' me softly, raw dog she wants meStrong and black like her coffee - get off meAct a donkey, I pin her tail to the mattress, I've been a playerMake her go from classy to nastyNASTY, NASTY, NASTY, NAAAASTY... [breathes hard] to sloosh[Andre 3000]Since you been gone I been having withdrawals..You were such a habit to callI ain't myself at all, had to tell myself "naw"She’s better with some fella with a regular jobI didn’t wanna get her involvedBy dinner Mr. Benjamin was sitting in aweHopped into my car; drove farFar’s too close and I remember my memories no sharpButter knife, what a life, anywayI’m building y’all a clock, stop, what am I, Hemingway?She had the kind of body that would probably intimidateany of ‘em that were un-southern - not me cousinIf models are made for modelin', thick girls are made for cuddlin’Switch worlds and we can huddle thenWho needs another friend!? I need to hold your handYou’d need no other man, we’d flee to other lands[plays guitar solo][chopped and screwed]Grey matter...Blue used to be my favorite colorNow I ain't got no choice; blue matter...[singing]You’re good at being bad (yeah)You’re bad at being good (ohhh)For heaven’s sakes go to hellKn-knock on wood, heeeyYou’re good at being bad (you're bead at bein' good)You’re bad at being good (for heaven's sakes go to hell, knock on wood)For heaven’s sakes go to hellKnock knock knock knock on woodWell (Frankly) when that (Ocean) so muh'fuckin' goodMake her swab the muh'fuckin' woodMake her walk the muh'fuckin' plankMake her rob a muh'fuckin' bankwith no mask on and a rusty revolver
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Добавлена: | 7 января 2018 |
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