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NC-17

de Travis Scott

Yeah, yeah, nah-nah, ayy
Why you want my fame? Quit the, send the change
Ridin' in my coupe, why you want my fame?
I know it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my
Ayy, fever
High, fever
(Turn my auto-tune up)
Diamonds on my lean though, sanity (Yeah, yeah)
Diamonds on my fever
Why you in my seat?
Diamonds on my fever, sanity

Can we beat the odds? Even men will pray
But shit still be goin' wrong
Got been movin' late, in my place I can't keep calm
Everything we say, promises I can't keep on
They know where we from, from tats on my face and arm
713 code, now they all go trill mode
Ice my teeth, my ears, now my tongue feel froze
If we see a lick, we gon' hit it, yeah, I go
I don't need your bitch, I got fifty-four mo'
Keep it in her lip, she gon' lick the snow globe
One hand on my hip, grippin' on the bankroll
Took her on a trip, snatched her off the damn pole

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