Burning Up Lyrics
[Intro]
(Damn, Trademark)
[Chorus: The Kid LAROI]
Quarter million-dollar vacation (Vacation)
Bitch, 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 shit (Yeah)
Brand new Porsche, 911, red velvet inside my whip (Ah, ah, ah, ah)
[Verse: Nardo Wick]
Bitch I'm burnin' 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 her bottom wasn't big enough
I got lots of choppers for the oppers, we gon' hit 'em up (Grraow, grraow, grraow)
Give it up, this a robbery, I want my style back
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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 bat
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
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