JAMBA BOYS - Golden Hour

Yeah, everything you touch turns to gold
Feel like DaBaby let's go
Feel like Brad I'm flying off the road, and I'm losing control
You know I can never sell my soul, that's a big no no
She's beautiful, she should probably be on Vogue, but she doesn't know it though
Yeah, how you do a hundred in a minivan
I can't grow up like I'm Peter Pan
And I don't do drugs, I'm not popping Xans
I was so in love couldn't feel my hands, yeah
So in love couldn't feel my hands, yeah

Yeah
Just called Jase Bain
Put that mask on like I'm Bane
I called up T-Pain
I need eleven rings
I need eleven rings like I'm Bill Russell
Or I need six rings, like I'm Michael Jordan, R.I.P. Nipsey Hussle
R.I.P. Nipsey Hussle, R.I.P. Juice, and R.I.P. X, yeah
Can't forget Long live sketchy, when I get home I'm texting my ex, yeah
Texting my ex, call up YoungBoy cause it makes no sense
Texting my ex, call up YoungBoy cause it makes no sense, yeah

Yeah, everything you touch turns to gold
Feel like DaBaby let's go
Feel like Brad I'm flying off the road, and I'm losing control
You know I can never sell my soul, that's a big no no
She's beautiful, she should probably be on Vogue, but she doesn't know it though
Yeah, how you do a hundred in a minivan
I can't grow up like I'm Peter Pan
And I don't do drugs, I'm not popping Xans
I was so in love couldn't feel my hands, yeah
So in love couldn't feel my hands, yeah
Yeah, I'm out

Written by:
JAMBA BOYS, Kyrin Thomas

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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