Accueil  💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales

Oh What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips, snails
And puppy-dogs´ tails
That´s what little boys are made of

I don’t know man… I wish… I wish I could just lay there…
And… be worshipped for it.
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It´s time to show the world who´s tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don´t you
Sleep poor
Big man coming out of quicksand, a mix of dog and chimpanzee with a big plan (Pig Plan)
I got punchlines on demand, I call em lyrical shenanigans

But if it gets too hard I can still rebrand make millions sell that big shlong on only fans (oh)
Bump up the faders put a low pass on the haters (yeah)
Dodging the tomatoes got that Peter Parker radar
Don´t put me to the test I´m an alpha not a beta
I´m here for the conquest, like an italian sailor
Running after success until I´m hit with heart failure
Now Spread your damn legs girl and get that pussy catered
4 in the morning can´t get no shut-eye pondering choices I´m thinking should I
Go all the way and transform into what I
Love to hate or stay true like a samurai
You love to act tough but I can tell you hide a lot of your weakness behind blue eyes
Obsessed with the buck but I know that coin got two sides

That typa shit´ll make me wonder like who am I ?
Honestly at this point I don’t even know...
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It´s time to show the world who´s tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don´t you
Sleep poor
So while you shopping wasting all you credit (all your credit)
I be choppin like my name was Frederic (Chopin)
You can bump this in a brand new Lexus
Or in a taxi the chorus so infections (yeah)

Fuck on the backseat like Miller in Sexus (yeah)
I´m trying to stay happy eating pussy for breakfast
Then I gotta exit, oh shit the beat, I think I just got it pregnant
But she caught me in a snare when she gave me the clap
I´m just craving for stares, but not the ones in your flat
A living nightmare, only at peace when I nap
Self hating white male I don´t even think I should rap
But I´m addicted this shit better than reefer
I´m a victim, but thank God not a Preacher´s
I sip gin till I´m a whole different creature
Yelling at a wall like it´s a sold out arena
I do it all for fame, I´m a self obsessed diva (Yeaaah)

I am now a hurricane call me Katrina
I´m going away hop in la macchina
And if I ever get afraid, well then Imma be a
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It´s time to show the world who´s tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don´t you
Sleep poor