Champagne Wishes & Caviar Dreams Lyrics – Tory Lanez

Im tryin to run away from temptations, but the shit’s calling
I’m at the Ritz Carlton, sitting in this bitch balling
I know these women faking and still I can’t call it
They like you drive, but ain’t arrivin when your whip is stallin
I thought this fame shit would change shit
I turn around, I’m still surrounded by the same shit
I’m on a champagne sip, got the flame late still moving up
It’s open seas like the salve ship, buffling the plague click
You know you with the don its whatever
Lyrically im Kobe and Lebron put together
Niggas can’t accept it so they tell me that im soundin like
Uh, a bunch of rappers that dont sound alike
Fuck you, man, I’m off the subject
These niggers be faking, these bitches be hating
Shit, I’m about my budget
First class from the seven is filling the norms
Scotty Gripping balling win to my women is from
That’s why they love the dome
In house left the keys out and never know
Give me two bad bitches, I give my Elleanor
And some ice cold water to sip this lemon all
Fuck you niggers, you nigga’s about fifty
She’s skinny and gold jimmy
For you think you fuck strictly I’m here to get fucked quickly
Scar mouth, she got Mohawk and he thoughts
With a left dress, which body is the mess
Don’t be a dog, I can show you how I’m pimping
Rather leash neat this lifestyle when I’m limping
Rule number one, keep your head up in the wind
You gotta, gotta make some money, go bananas like it’s chimping
Folks don’t ever know, heard this pussy niggers hating, fuck, who ever do
Fly diva, I eat her if she had a boo, but she got to have millions, rapper villie on, stacks on zillion
You rolling with the state up next, ball met your face like a break up, nigga
And I see I’m trying to take up next, we gonna make a next call it jake out, nigga
We need to fight for, nigga, switch your side, tell me who you ride for
Do your verge, stop and turn it, nigga, fight for
Pump seven out of eleven bottle side shore
I got worry, we should kill it, nigga, why for?
Can in the stupid your level, I’m in the sky more
I’m in the Louie V style, shit is Gucci guitar
I’m meaning Suzuki models give me Gucci a lot
Bitch, I’m mobbing through the mall, got trullies ‘em all
You’re telling get money, niggers, while I’m truly depart
Me and sun shine up a deal, best skin coping for another winning
Have ‘em like the track field how you run up in it
‘till it’s dead and finished, hop in mane and fuck it with it
Why is they fucking with me? On my shit, get off my dick
Don’t know what this money all mean
All I’m left and all I’m which, c’mon
Niggers still hating, c’mon
Niggers getting ready, c’mon
Why there is the begging, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon
C’mon, c’mon

C’mon, c’mon

C’mon, don’t leave me alone
Babe, please, don’t leave me alone

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