Thierry Demers - Warehouse District lyrics

She keeps the firearm right beside the tiger balm Point blank period, baby got your back... She had the grape-wine windbreaker Had her timbs tailored, burgundy red like rib flavours Fourth floor jumpy of the warehouse district For chunky cookie cake, we air out biscuits Turn cooking shows into Paramount pictures Swimmin' upstream, got some red trout with us Take her aboard but we fishin' for sport So... fall back like we ditchin' your corpse A chef hat and an apron that say somethin' slick Oven mitts to cover grips 'cause they dust for prints So if you grippin' nines and committin' crimes Like The Revolution, never leave (Prince/Prints) behind 'cause that yellow tape ain't a finish line Y'all baby mamas Adriannas and they singin' like... (hook) She keeps the firearm right beside the tiger balm Point blank period, baby got your back... She never b**hes about scrubbin' the dishes She just brushed her teeth and she can't f** with citrus Fresh squeezed lemonade, waiting for a king 'bout to flee with the dowry and play him for the ring Let her whip the coupe though your steering is better Honey brown 911, call her Tia Carrere The premium leather sticks to her skin in the summer She hits you up on the burner but you ain't give her the number Yet you thinkin' youse a pimp is the oldest trick in the game She was raised in the wild, she prolly live in the same Same style as her momma, she got attention to gain So the fat lady singin' will prolly mention your name She'll sell you out like "this is business, this is life" Y'all baby mamas Adriannas and they singin' like...