Luna997 ft. Faeywa & Fella Graciela - Haribo

Noir Désir

Lyrics: 

Hop in that whip and I zoom (Skrrt)
Bitch in my phone, she boom (Woo)
All of my diamonds go vroom (Bling)
Poppin’ that shh like balloon (What?)
Told her, “Don’t speak in the room” (Huh?)
We got them sticks like platoon (Brrt)
Glock with the light, it's a moon (What?)
She wanna dance to the tune (Slatt)

Pull up, I’m fresh off the bean (Yeah)
Codeine inside of my spleen (Lean)
Heard he want smoke, that’s a dream (Pew)
We let it sing, no Kareem (Skrrt)
I got that Wock in my jeans (Huh)
Mixin’ that Sprite with the green (What?)
Shorty just popped her a bean (Yeah)
Told me she feel like a queen (Wha-wha?)

Balenci', I stepped in a swamp (Swamp)
Still got the stick in the trunk (Trunk)
Shoot like I’m huntin’ a buck (Buck)
He play, then we fuckin’ him up (Up)
I am not showin’ no love (No)
I am not givin' no trust (No)
I told that bitch, “Just hush”
We in the back of the club (Yeah)

Walk with that Glock like a cane (Brrt)
I’m in the sky like a plane (Woo)
I took that ho off the chain (Gone)
I do not fuck with no lames (Nah)
Mixin' my cup with the pain (Pain)
Hollows gon’ fly like a flame (Flame)
I got a TEC with a frame (Brrt)
Don’t even know that boy name (Nah)

I feel like the devil on shrooms (Shrooms)
I might take off to the moon (Moon)
Opp got hit in the noon (Boom)
Left his whole face in the room (Gone)
Shawty want Prada and loot (Loot)
I want her throat in the coupe (Throat)
I want that smoke like a booth (What?)
We got that gas and the truth (Woo)

Stuck in my zone, no delay (Delay)
Run up that bag every day (Bag)
I pop that pill in the Wraith (Wraith)
Now I can't feel my face (Slatt)
All of my bitches got taste ey
All of my clips got space ey
All of this drip got waste ey
Told her, “Don’t look at my safe” 

Ayy, back of the Phantom, no tint, eyes red
Codeine spill on the seats like paint
That’s not gas, boy, that’s just mint
My bitch weird, she roll my drank (What?)
I got scars from the sippin’ and thievin’
I got opps that be breathin’ uneven (Slatt)
I got sticks that don’t fit the ceiling
Hit his top, make him sleep through the weekend

Rage in the booth, no cap, no stylist 
Walk in the function, whole fit too violent
Took his ho, now the boy move silent
Took his pack, now he need new clients

Took his ho, now the boy move silent
Took his pack, now he need new clients
Fuck these rappers, y’all all just diet
Real street shit, I don’t need no guidance
Thick red ho, she love my science

Hood got love for a villain
Racks up top in the ceiling 
Heard he told, boy chillin'
We gon’ slide on him, no feelings
Bitch wanna cry in a Benz 
Cool, but she suck on ten 
Ten minutes, then she with my friend
Still hit the mall, I spend 
I spend,
I spend.

Noir Désir

Seth

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