Paris Texas - Lana Del Rey

Watch your mouth, I am not the one
Fantasies playing with a gun
American spirit stay on my lungs
Two years in, I've held my tongue (hold up, okay)

Two, oh, twenty-one, I was stomping in this bitch
I was gonna change lives when I dreamed of getting rich
I got a whole bag then I turned into a trick
I can't help myself, I've been thinking with my dick
I get way too paranoid, no more Za when I smoke
Back-to-back tobacco nigga, not too long 'fore I croak
Brixton on me, I be looking like a bloke
Can't tell me shit, every song is on go

Go
Go

Ay, ay, yeah
Ay, I swear to God, I'm so sick and tired of these niggas, y'all (go)
Ay, put that on my Mama like
Ay, huh, ay nah, for real (go)
I don't use a pen, I use an EpiPen now, for real, for real
I'm allergic, to these lames, dawg, for real, for real
Toxicity, got it from hood trauma, for real, for real
Love and compassion from hood mommas, for real
Okay, big dream, wide-eyed, head in the clouds, skydive
Say the shit, but never do it, no sir, not I
She run her mouth, it's evident
You never hear the end of it (ay)
Yeah, her brain a ten but the bitch ass a nine

Man, these niggas washed up (ay)
And I'm cool with that (okay)
Don't connect wit' what you sayin' 'cause yo' service trash (hello? Hello?)
I'm in a puffer coat made under a London flag (oi, oi)
Tryna find out where I'm at, nigga, Google Maps (Google Maps)
Okay, street view, oh my God, he in a bag
I like ratchet hoes, pretty face, plenty ass
Why the fuck these hos never cool wit' they dad?
I need to run it back, I need to run it, wait, go

Go
Go
Go
Go
(Go, go, go, go) go

Let it go
Your time is up
I'm on the road
I'm counting up
They picked us
So big me up
Or shut it up
I'm on a roll
I'm on a-

I can't forget
I hold a grudge
Like a newborn
Bitch, I'm from the mud
Give me your ho
I'ma slut her up
Can't go against us
Niggas really up

Written by:
Adrian Waller, Wale Onayemi, Dilip Venkatesh, Rodaidh McDonald

Publisher:
Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC

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