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Travis Scott - Lost Forever OG Version ft. James Blake & Westside Gunn [Extended Outro]
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Crédits

INTERPRÉTATION
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Chant
Westside Gunn
Westside Gunn
Chant
James Blake
James Blake
Chant
Chuck Senrick
Chuck Senrick
Artiste samplé
COMPOSITION ET PAROLES
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Jacques Bermon Webster II
Paroles/Composition
James Litherland
James Litherland
Paroles/Composition
Alvin Worthy
Alvin Worthy
Paroles/Composition
Dominic Maker
Dominic Maker
Paroles/Composition
Alan Maman
Alan Maman
Paroles/Composition
Douglas Ford
Douglas Ford
Paroles/Composition
Elliott Baker
Elliott Baker
Paroles/Composition
PRODUCTION ET INGÉNIERIE
Travis Scott
Travis Scott
Production
James Blake
James Blake
Production
The Alchemist
The Alchemist
Production
Dominic Maker
Dominic Maker
Production
MIKE DEAN
MIKE DEAN
Ingénierie de mixage

Paroles

Have you ever been lost? Have you ever been lost? Forever Lost on islands, driven in boat cars Just bring your girl, feel like she both ours Young black nigga work at the Auchans (Auchans) So how we here trapped on the ocean? 'Bout to go up a level of disrespectful I'm just one chain away from goin' heavy metal I'm just one angel away from blockin' out the devil Just one mountain away from meetin' all my rebels Too much power, too many hours all in a day I sent her flowers, ain't talkin roses, I'm talkin' maoda Ask if she "Ha-ha-ha", I really doubt it (ha-ha-ha) Took her through the Hills at noon, she felt the- (And how wonderful, how wonderful) Baby girl think she in Honolu' (wonderful) Don't you know you in the I-5 loop? (How wonderful) How many chickens fit in the coupe? (Fit in the coupe, fit in the coupe) (how wonderful, wonderful) Wonderful, she don't wanna leave She jump up, bounce back like trampoline (have you ever been lost?) (Like trampoline, like trampoline, like trampoline, like trampoline) Ayo, whip the cocaine 'til the pot bust ('til the pot bust, ah) You was on the porch, I was locked up (I was locked up, ah) Two-tone Maybach truck with the Maxwells (skrrt, Maxwells) Think a nigga shot somethin' (ah) Put it to your face, watch a motherfucker blow (boo-boo-boo-boo-boom) Daytona, different color face on the road (ah) Ten on his head, he be dead by the mornin' (by the mornin') I can get dirty for the stove (ah) Dior trench shit hang to the floor (ah) Dior goggles, I ain't playin' with you hoes (uh-uh) Out in South Beach with the poles in the Rolls (skrrt, boo-boo-boo-boo-boom) Good to see ya dudes, alligators on the toes (ah) (On the toes, on the toes, on the toes) Fashion week, I'ma strut too, bitches (ah) Hundred-round drum, make a nigga go get it (make a nigga go get it, grrt) Tribe go to sell a fifth, bucket while we drillin' (boo-boo-boo-boo-boom) Had to sneak my new Glock up in Lenox (ah) Free Sly Green, he got Wayne Perry digits Socks Burberry, dick sucks on the visit (ah, brrrt) First one to pop, first to earn the stripes (stripes) Three strikes in, 25 to life (uh-uh) Hyping up the building, hyping up the sights (sights) Whips got the wings of angel kit I been wanting this shit my whole life, I didn't pray for it She want me to come into his house, but I can't kick it She want the whole dub-dub E, but I ain't convinced Never met her she, but she met Sheck, she don't need a prince Took her off the O into the D, she ain't take offense Way we got it bouncin' off the boards we making prints Wait until I step into the floor and then they commence
Writer(s): Douglas Ford, Jacques Webster, James Litherland, Maman Alan, Alvin Worthy, Elliott Baker Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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