Hotel Suite lyrics

by

DOM KENNEDY


[Intro]
All that
Yea, but really

[Verse 1]
I just got this dough in my pocket, the hoes that be jockin'
This weight on my shoulder, all these clothes in my closet
V12 engines, beautiful women
This life is a blast n*gga when you the one winnin'
Liquor in my kidneys, yac when I’m sippin'
Black Escalade, with all of my n*ggas
Calls from them prisons, from careless decisions
Tryin' to upgrade yo livin', tryna spin off yo pivot
I relate though my n*gga, so I shoot you that green dot
We f*cking these b*tches, 2013 Aaliyahs
We fly to these countries in 501 Levi’s
I’m so west side n*gga, arriba arriba
These n*ggas be hatin', but really I see why
Hundred a show, so gas up the G5
That’s one of my goals n*gga, know I complete mine
I think it, I do it
It’s part of my design

[Chorus]
Yea, in a hotel suite, with a famous freak
Yea, told her do her thing, she ain’t even blink
Uh, took her off her feet, put her on that sink
Aye, everything by choice, but she came for me
Look, so I got that flight you should probably chief
Yea, shots of Patron make yo body weak
Look, and I ain't gon stop til we f*ck up yo sheets
Look, then I wake you up and just f*ck up yo sleep
[Verse 2]
Young n*gga with no conscience, corporate cards in my wallet
b*tches tell me I’m awesome, I’m like duh b*tch, I’m on Slauson
Life’s short, there’s no promise
Party hard like New Orleans
Crack a pint and then pour it, but I don’t ever start snoring
Foot to gas, I keep floorin'
Stop lookin', that could be yours
I just wrote a f*ckin' book it's the taking money, thesaurus
All I know is get more, all I know is just flourish
Started off on that porridge
Now it's shrimp tempura
Crab and lobster on Collins
n*ggas all skipped college
Ended up as them bosses, all I know is we poppin'
All I know is I got it
TMC, that’s my logic
Marathon, ain’t no stoppin'
That’s the way I get all this
Los Angeles royal sh*t, county jail Top Ram sh*t
Court tank, gang brawl sh*t
Smoking, smellin like dog sh*t
Have you feeling like aw sh*t, I gotta go home, I gotta get up out
Then you scratch yo head, tryna find a route, you gotta figure it out
Gotta buy a Benz, buy a house
Stay confident while you try it out
Really do this type of sh*t that these rappin n*ggas be lyin bout
Be lyin bout, they trickin hoes, they flyin out
b*tch just call me like come through
I’m like yea boo, I’m bout to wear you out
[Chorus]
Yea, in a hotel suite, with a famous freak
Yea, told her do her thing, she ain’t even blink
Uh, took her off her feet, put her on that sink
Aye, everything by choice, but she came for me
Look, so I got that flight we should probably chief
Yea, shots of Patron make yo body weak
Look, and I ain’t gon stop til we f*ck up yo sheets
Look, then I wake you up and just f*ck up yo sleep

[Outro: DJ V.I.P]
All money in, no money out
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