Видео

Party Life
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Создатели

ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Вокал
Ed Goldson
Ed Goldson
Бас-гитара
Bashiri Johnson
Bashiri Johnson
Ударные инструменты
Mario Winans
Mario Winans
Барабаны
Shannon Jones
Shannon Jones
Вокал
Keyon Harrold
Keyon Harrold
Труба
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Deleno Matthews
Deleno Matthews
Автор песен
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Автор песен
Willie Hale
Willie Hale
Автор песен
David Stone
David Stone
Автор песен
Шон Комбс
Композитор
LV
LV
Автор песен
Willie James Clarke
Willie James Clarke
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
LV
LV
Продюсер
Victor Abjaoudi II
Victor Abjaoudi II
Инженер звукозаписи
Steve Dickey
Steve Dickey
Инженер звукозаписи
Gimel Keaton
Gimel Keaton
Инженер звукозаписи
Anthony Palazzole
Anthony Palazzole
Ассистент миксинг-инженера
Deleno Matthews
Deleno Matthews
Продюсер
Diddy
Diddy
Продюсер
JAY-Z
JAY-Z
Исполнительный продюсер
M. Testa
M. Testa
Ассистент инженера звукозаписи
Shawn Carter
Shawn Carter
Продюсер
Tony Dawsey
Tony Dawsey
Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

Break out the red lights, welcome to the party life Welcome to the 70s, sweet Ordered some Patreezy, while talking to this breezy Brushing off my three-piece, I make this look too easy So tall and lanky, my suit, it should thank me I make it look good to be this hood, Meyer Lansky Mixed with Lucky Lefty, gangster effortlessly Papa was a rolling stone, it's in my ancestry I'm in a whole 'nother league, niggas never catch me And I sport fly shit, I should win the ESPY Baby I said, "I-I sport, fly shit I should win the ESPY" I'm really in another league, babe I got a slick mouth, you might wanna roll with me I'm on the bra strap, she's on my dick Ain't nothing wrong with that, that's my bitch I be the boss of that, I'm on her shit So all you niggas fall back, I'll split ya wig She's my little quarterback, ya dig 'Cause I'm all that in the sack, yeah, ya dig I spoiled her, foiled it if you faking Jack She's used to million dollar vacations Fuck y'all gon' do with that? Ay, baby, see When you're used to filet mignon It's kinda hard to go back to Hamburger Helper It's your choice though baby (Is you rolling, rolling, rolling?) Yeah, baby, is you rolling? You can stall out or ball out (Is you rolling, rolling, rolling?) Make a choice It's so gangster, baby Sipping on my vino got me cooler than Pacino And De Niro put together my real life is like Casino They should pay me for some B-roll Taking G-strolls through the ghetto When rap-pap-pap-pid fire's just a necessary evil Hola Hovito, cooler than zero Below, fresh one blade, no chemo Art with no easel, please it's no equal Your boy's Off the Wall these other niggas is Tito Damn, ay baby I said I'm- I'm Off the Wall, I'm like a young Michael Jackson These other niggas is Tito Shout out to Randy Real talk I'ma just let this ride out I might let it ride out for like seven minutes You can groove to it, whatever Get your two-step Guru, turn the lights down Let's keep it smooth This that shit you roll up, like a lil' tight J to Sip your lil' wine, whatever your vice is you know Whatever you like to do Get into your comfort zone baby, get into your comfort zone (Is you rolling, rolling, rolling?) Head into the party life I'on't even want it to stop though, for real though Step into my bedroom, I, call it the red room 'Cau-cause it gets hot, hot, hot, hot I'm trust you gon' like it, see, why I be talking all this fly shit? 'Cau-cau-cau-cau-cau-cause I'm the flyest Hovito, baby, no equal, baby Sold perico, beat the RICO, now I'm legal ba-by Hovito, baby, no equal, baby Sold perico, beat the RICO, now can we go crazy
Writer(s): Willie Clarke, Sean Combs, Shawn Carter, Levar Coppin, Henry Stone, Deleno Matthews, Willie Hale Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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