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letra de burning up (original) - nardo wick

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[intro]
d-mn, trademark

[chorus: the kid laroi]
caught a million-dollar vacation (vacation)
b-tch, this is a money conversation (oh yeah)
look at where i come from, it’s amazing
under california sun, on the beach gettin’ faded
doubled up my cup and it’s a whole lot of dirty (yeah)
where i’m from, i’m the first on forbes under thirty (oh yeah)
they ain’t ever seen that sh-t (yeah)
brand new porsche, 911, red velvet inside my whip (ah, ah, ah, ah)
[verse 1: nardo wick]
b-tch i’m burning up, call a firetruck, they say i’m heatin’ up
suitcase for my racks, they say that duffle wasn’t big enough
sent her to the doctor ’cause hеr bottom wasn’t big enough
i got lots of choppers for the oppеrs, we gon’ hit ’em up (grraow, grraow, grraow)
give it up, this a robbery, i want my style back
we don’t do the woofin’, go find someone else to howl at (grraow, grraow, grraow)
big chains, swinging on my neck like a ball back
if he try to touch it, put a hole in his ballcap (baow, baow)
grape guts, i put purple seats in my trackhawk
don’t get mad at me, she told me, “hit her,” that ain’t my fault
general, never taking orders, i’m a big boss
if i tell ’em go, they gon’ spiral like a football
bloop-bloop, nardo came through drippin’ like a wet treat
she don’t want relations, she say she just wanna s-xt me
never call my phone, if you need me, better text me

[chorus: the kid laroi]
caught a million-dollar vacation (vacation)
b-tch, this is a money conversation (oh yeah)
look at where i come from, it’s amazing
under california sun, on the beach getting faded
doubled up my cup and it’s a whole lot of dirty (yeah)
where i’m from, i’m the first on forbes under thirty (oh yeah)
they ain’t ever seen that sh-t (yeah)
brand new porsche, 911, red velvet inside my whip (ah, ah, ah, ah)
[verse 2: the kid laroi]
i swear everybody want something from me (somethin’ from me)
and if you see me at the club, i got a couple hundred to be there
ain’t no questions about it, lotta checks in my balance
ain’t no dancing around it, that lil’ hoe a eater
reminiscing on my math teachers sayin’ i wouldn’t make it
now i’m makin’ in a day what her salary was payin’
i bet that she feel crazy now
paranoia everyday so i light me a wood and face it (face it, face it, face it)

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