Paroles de la chanson Whip appeal par Frank Ocean

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Paroles de la chanson Whip appeal par Frank Ocean

I'm out in front of Supreme, like I own it
Buttercream Benz, Goldfinger wheels
Driver can't steer, but look like Pam Grier
She like, "Where's there parking around here?"
That spot's reserved, so are those right there
Reserved for who?
For pretty girls in sports cars

Pretty girl driving my sports car
'Cause my license been suspended
Pretty girl driving my sports car
Got my feet up on the wood grain, roof missing

You've got that whip appeal
Whipping my stick, shift, gear
You'd be under the jail, girl

Only if whipping could kill
You've got that

Up and down Mulholland, on the weekends we chill
You're driving with no shoes, cruise control
Love the way you take the wheel
Got your photo on my air freshener
In a scents just like the

Pretty girl driving my sports car
'Cause my license been suspended
Pretty girl driving my sports car
Got my feet up on the wood grain, roof missing

You've got that whip appeal
Whipping my stick, shift, gear
You'd be under the jail, girl
Only if whipping could kill

I just finished practice
She's on her way to get me, she's in traffic
She said give her 20 minutes (I'm finna hop in the shower)
Girl, I hope 20 don't mean an hour
And as the cold water runs over my chest
I've been thinking 'bout your skirt on my headrest

Pretty girl driving my sports car
Pretty, roof missing

You've got that whip appeal (It's M.I.A.)
Whipping my stick, shift, gear (I think they call that a Spyder)
You'd be under the jail, girl (Oh girl, when we ride)

Only if whipping could kill (We listenin' to B-side)
You've got that (Yeah)
You've got that whip appeal (You got)
Whipping my stick, shift, gear (You got me whippin')
You'd be under the jail, girl (You got)
Only if whipping could kill
You've got that
You've got that
You got it

I let you drive my Benz
Flossing on your friends 'round town
I let you fill my seats wit' shopping bags
I let you go do your thing, riding with your friends 'round town
Riding with your girlfriends

And I'll always keep it clean
So why don't you park in the front, just to stunt?
That'll make all them bitches mad
Why don't you lift up the roof, just to stunt?
It'll make all them bitches mad
All them girls wanna be you

You've got that whip appeal
Whipping my stick, shift, gear
You'd be under the jail, girl
Only if whipping could kill
You've got that

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