She arrives in this club with the look of Yves
A bit of Saint-Laurent
Fucked up, I have the vision of Jalil
I want a golden camera for her dancing body
She arrives in this club with the look of Yves
A bit of Saint-Laurent
Fucked up, I have the vision of Jalil

Cocktail and rooftop
She checks the bouncer, kisses her friends
She listens to, Sean Nicolas Savage
I wear the Dior and the diamond of Channel
Rich, flex, 21 savage
The taxi takes a tuft with her
She waves to great ladies but the fragile of Clay
The Margiela tunic falls on her buttock
She raises her head to reveal her neck
Traces of injections ruin the sexy
That she had from a Hollywood actress
The look of a pimp, and the sadness of a porn actress

She arrives in this club with the look of Yves
A bit of Saint-Laurent
Fucked up, I have the vision of Jalil
I want a golden camera for her dancing body
She arrives in this club with the look of Yves
A bit of Saint-Laurent
Fucked up, I have the vision of Jalil

Trace of
Coke and tears, from the cheek to the mouth
She made herself pretty for the flashes
She kissed the crowd
Fucked up, it's true, it's weird, in reality
She didn't see the lover
She whispered to me that she had cried in the shower, hmm

There, my bitch, she's fucked up
She boxed all the zaza
She just keeps sinking
Cheeks deformed by the sofa
She vomited in her Gucci, cried in the Prada
Nostrils weakened
By the powder she picked up downstairs
She sleeps, she cries, she doesn't even move
The film is running and nothing is on pause
6 in the morning, she's going to be late
Because of an overdose

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