album cover
Panic At The Disco
album cover
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02:12
Past 7 Days
Panic At The Disco was discovered most frequently in the first few seconds of the song during the past week

Music Video

Music Video

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Black and white diamonds, Ore' on a Bisco'
She OD'd in the club, panic at the disco
We got brown and white, Chipotle, big bowl
Got a whole ice pack, you could say my wrist swole
Baby know my wrist cold
Took off with a Rollie, he like, "Where your wrist go?"
I ain't get to smoke today, bitch, that's why I'm pissed off
If shawty ain't bad, I don't want her
Ran it up, yeah, still posted on the corner
Stick to his nose like I'm testin' for corona
G-Lock smack by the crack on the dresser
Lil' auntie packed, she get smacked, that's my task for her
Laughin' at the judge up in court like a jester
Kumalala, kumalala, kumala savesta
Brodie went fed, tryna tell him keep his head up
He ain't wanna hear it, I told lil' bro get his bread up
.45 smacked, leave a cracker on the pavement
Got nothin' to be sad 'bout, laughin' with the bankers
Cool, I just walked up in the party, swag super smooth
Fit from Marni, you retarded, this ain't Gucci, boo
Hmm-hmm, playin' with that coochie, I say, "Coochie-coo"
I don't know why your dumb ass bought that Gucci suit
I don't know what I gotta do to get through to you
We got different color pills just like Rubik's Cubes
Got a redbone, look just like Karrueche do
Why you mad at me, baby? What I do to you? (Huh, huh)
Rock out in the sunshine, call me KC
Cracker train gettin' hot, need some AC
Huh, .45 hit your top, leave you, pfft
.45 hit your top, leave your brain leak'
I hustle harder than a freaky ho in Hollywood
Don't even ask to hit my blunt if I just sparked the wood
Red tip look like Donald Trump
Z pack made him quack, call him Donald Duck
Everybody smacked, better not play crazy
Like to play rough, I don't like to play lazy
Every time she hit the Rug crib, vacation
Dog shit stink like a cracker eight plays in
(Woah) Like to get fresh, but I hate bein' famous
Chocolate set baguette, baby, how could I be racist?
Fine as hell, tall for real, get me on one of them stages
All the hoes love me, call me White Chocolate
I was just poured, now I'm dog shit walkin'
Ain't had no motion, now my neck ocean
G-Lock lavish, strange things on me
Thirteen reasons, leave your ass funky
Had to skip twelve, we don't fuck with your homie
That ain't my dog, baby girl, that's your homie
Had your shine, go 'head, get your moment
Look up in the mirror, tell me what you wanna be
I could show you Greece, designer gallery
Good with a piece, sell sand to a beach
She eat me in a Jeep, Track' tearin' up the street
Written by: 1900Rugrat
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