Sports bras and overalls for
Talk to Siri, tell her call your number
We can fuck and keep it on the under (on the low low)
Booty shorts and cut-off shirts, I love it
I just wanna fondle you in public
I just wanna touch and fuck (all kinds of shit)
California, californication
Palm trees, pounds full of bomb weed that I’d be down if you were tryna blaze
it, ay ay
Lines in the sand match the tan lines in your pants, fosho
They could feel it in the air now
Because we over here (la-di-da, la-di-da-di-da-da)
I heard it’s bleaker on the other side
They’d rather be over here (la-di-da, la-di-da-di-da-da)
I could lift you
I just wish you’d release all your fears (la-di-da, la-di-da-di-da)
Put extra syrup on her pancakes
It’s sweet over here (la-di-da, la-di-da-di-da-da)
Tryna be a little more than hood rich
Just knocked a bitch out in Bushwick
275 on the L train
I get mad love out in Brooklyn
Elbow for the
I get mad love out in Brooklyn