Paris, Texas Songtext
von Lana Del Rey

Watch yo mouth, I am not the one
Fantasies playing with a gun
American Spirits stay on my lungs
Two years in, I′ve held my tongue (Hold up, okay)
Two-oh-twenty-one, I was stomping in this bitch
I was gonna change lives when I dreamed of getting rich
I got a whole bag, then I turned into a trick
I can't help myself, I′ve been thinking with my dick
I get way too paranoid, no more za when I smoke
Back to back tobacco, nigga, not too long 'fore I croak
Brixton on me, I be looking like a bloke
Y'all can′t tell me shit, every song is on
Go, go
(Aye, aye, chill!)
(Aye I swear to God)
(I′m so sick and tired of these niggas, dawg)
Go
(Aye, put that on my mama like)
(Aye, aye, nah, for real)
Go


I don't use a pen, I use a Epipen now
For real, for real
I′m allergic to these lames dawg
For real, for real
Toxicity, got it from hood trauma
For real, for real
Love and compassion from hood mommas
For real, for real
Okay, big dreams, wide-eyed
Head in the clouds, skydive
Say the shit but never do it
No sir, not I
She run her mouth, it's evident
You never hear the end of it
Yeah, her brain a ten but the bitch asinine
Man, these niggas washed up (Aye)
And I′m cool with that (Okay)
Don't connect with what you saying
Cause yo service trash (I don′t know)
I'm in a puffer coat made under a London flag (Aye, aye)
Tryna find out where I'm at
Nigga, Google Maps (Maps)
Okay, street view
Oh my God, he in a bag (Oh my God)
I like ratchet hoes
Pretty face, plenty ass (Oh my God)
Why the fuck these hoes never cool with they dad?
(With they dad)
I need to run it back (Yeah)
I need to run it, wait
Go, go
Go, go
Go, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Go
Let it go, your time is up
I′m on the road, I′m counting up
They picked us, so big me up
Or shut it up, I'm on a roll
I′m on a
I can't forget, I hold a grudge
Like a new born, bitch, i′m from the mud
Give me your hoe, I'mma slut her up
Can′t go against us, niggas really up