Paroles de la chanson Big Boy par Oscar Lesage

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Paroles de la chanson Big Boy par Oscar Lesage

Oh What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Snips, snails
And puppy-dogs' tails
That's what little boys are made of
I don’t know man… I wish… I wish I could just lay there…
And… be worshipped for it.
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It's time to show the world who's tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don't you
Sleep poor
Big man coming out of quicksand, a mix of dog and chimpanzee with a big plan (Pig Plan)
I got punchlines on demand, I call em lyrical shenanigans
But if it gets too hard I can still rebrand make millions sell that big shlong on only fans (oh)
Bump up the faders put a low pass on the haters (yeah)
Dodging the tomatoes got that Peter Parker radar
Don't put me to the test I'm an alpha not a beta
I'm here for the conquest, like an italian sailor
Running after success until I'm hit with heart failure
Now Spread your damn legs girl and get that pussy catered
4 in the morning can't get no shut-eye pondering choices I'm thinking should I
Go all the way and transform into what I
Love to hate or stay true like a samurai
You love to act tough but I can tell you hide a lot of your weakness behind blue eyes
Obsessed with the buck but I know that coin got two sides
That typa shit'll make me wonder like who am I ?
Honestly at this point I don’t even know...
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It's time to show the world who's tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don't you
Sleep poor
So while you shopping wasting all you credit (all your credit)
I be choppin like my name was Frederic (Chopin)
You can bump this in a brand new Lexus
Or in a taxi the chorus so infections (yeah)
Fuck on the backseat like Miller in Sexus (yeah)
I'm trying to stay happy eating pussy for breakfast
Then I gotta exit, oh shit the beat, I think I just got it pregnant
But she caught me in a snare when she gave me the clap
I'm just craving for stares, but not the ones in your flat
A living nightmare, only at peace when I nap
Self hating white male I don't even think I should rap
But I'm addicted this shit better than reefer
I'm a victim, but thank God not a Preacher's
I sip gin till I'm a whole different creature
Yelling at a wall like it's a sold out arena
I do it all for fame, I'm a self obsessed diva (Yeaaah)
I am now a hurricane call me Katrina
I'm going away hop in la macchina
And if I ever get afraid, well then Imma be a
Big boy
You better get a grip and grow some
Meatballs
Slap em in the face until they
Need more
You better go out there and make the
Beat boil
It's time to show the world who's tha
Big boy
You can have big dreams but don't you
Sleep poor

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