Guitar Songtext
von Kanada Farito
Guitar Songtext
(Blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it)
Papa
Oh, been lookin′ good alone
Takin' pics on my phone
Haters streaming my songs (that′s right)
Livin' my life on magazines
Crazy, classic, starving
Sunday but music bumping (alright)
And it's not perfect
And the bombs are falling
And the fuck, we are crying
In the streets, we′re all fucked up
And it′s my birthday
And the love is crazy
And the hope is finished
In the streets, we're all fucked up
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin′ right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
Wanna get hot at the festival
(Wanna get hot at the festival)
Wanna get hot like a miracle
(Wanna get hot like a miracle)
Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale
(Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale)
Got a lot of stories to tell, ooh (Papa)
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin′ right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
(Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it, go)
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it)
Papa
Oh, been lookin′ good alone
Takin' pics on my phone
Haters streaming my songs (that′s right)
Livin' my life on magazines
Crazy, classic, starving
Sunday but music bumping (alright)
And it's not perfect
And the bombs are falling
And the fuck, we are crying
In the streets, we′re all fucked up
And it′s my birthday
And the love is crazy
And the hope is finished
In the streets, we're all fucked up
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin′ right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
Wanna get hot at the festival
(Wanna get hot at the festival)
Wanna get hot like a miracle
(Wanna get hot like a miracle)
Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale
(Wanna get crazy like a fairy tale)
Got a lot of stories to tell, ooh (Papa)
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin' good and lookin′ right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
My presence sweet, my diamonds bright
Big models for my appetite
Lookin′ good and lookin' right
Cried the shit out of my guitar
(Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it
Go, blow it, go, blow it, go)
Writer(s): Kanada Farito, Piotr Ostrowski Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com