Manicures on Board

Album cover art for "Manicures on Board" by GASHI

GASHI - Rap, USA

Manicures on Board

3 Plays

Duration: 3:55

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Lyrics

That's so crazy Hey, hey, (?) Hey, Takashi Murakami Louis duffel Girl I truly loved you, till you broke my heart that's cupid shuffle (Woo) I'm buggin' cause I could've fucked your friend instead Girl I'm ballin' I even gave you that nutmeg (Woo) Crazy, but good riddance I nutted in mouths I should've pissed in Wrist on Sonny Liston Margiela tux on this day of Christmas Only hard dick is what my bitch is getting (Skrr) Valentino summers all my Jeeps is Hummers (Yey) Fred designing on my sheets and covers when I sleep with women (Fly) Don't invite me over to your pity party switch the Cartis to the Gaultiers My boat is at the Chelsea Pier (Woo), girl this happеns every year It's vеry clear You only want me for them new Bottegas bought you every pair (Pew) Got them diamonds on me looking like a chandelier (Woo) I call my piece to David Blaine and make him disappear (Grrrrrrrt) (Wooo) (Skrrt) (Get it) Balling like the Harlem Globe, I'm in the Hall of Fame Took the bitch to Starbucks cause I forgot her name (Hahah) Turnin' up my hustles, how I give myself a raise (Skr) Got the perfect aim, they think it's luck I did it again (Dit it) Cruising off into the sunrise (Skrrt), in a Porsche 911 with the bug eyes New Prada lenses, you can't see a thug cry (No) My favorite rapper overdosed because his buzz died I learned my lesson, fans ain't gon' love you forever, man they all gon' exit (Yey) Ain't nothing worse than being famous, broke on IG flexing (Yey) You know what we call that shit, silent depression Yeah, and I'm doing what I'm supposed to Say she bisexual, well, girl, I'm bicoastal Stuntin' on the gram like, always on your socials Say she got a man, but he don't ever post you Haha, how you say you got a man but he don't post you? (Hahahahah) I turned Times Square into my living room Billboards everywhere, look like a photo booth Like Joe Pesci in Home Alone with the golden tooth (Woo) I wanted a big crib with the swimming pool My son a shooter like Carmelo (Baow) Cayenne the Porsche, the exterior marshmallow A harsh fellow, as I dodge devils, I'm God-level Gemstones in my tombstone, Imma die rebel New Bottega fabric, she love lyin', so I copped the mattress Acting like she love me, but she a bad actress Me and Gash go way back, since high school mathematics (Yey) Who would've thought we'd drop class to drop classics On a 747 on our way to Paris (Woow) Carry-ons only, girl, you weigh too much baggage Manicures on board, diamonds in my glasses (Yee) Watching Godfather Carlo crying and we laughing (Hahahah) Yeah, we laughing, plane touchdown, go shopping And I Raf it, Rockstar, Rolling Stone, watch me Mick Jag it (Yeah) Back to Arizona, 200 in an Aston (Brrrrt) Got 50 on the wrist (Yeah), 100 on my neck (Yeah) That's your whole whip (Whip), that painting on my wall (Wall) That's your whole crib (Crib), I just bought a yacht on the toilet I'm the shit We are not (?), no, no We are not (?), no, noo We are not (?) We are not (?), no, no, no, noo Yey, no, no

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Credits

Writers
  • GASHI
  • Jimi Banks
  • Vincent Scarsella