Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song White Linen (Coolin), artist - Wale.
Date of issue: 27.10.2011
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
White Linen (Coolin) |
Fly nigga couldn’t tell me nothing different homes |
And I be good til the fat woman sing a note |
I’m tryna find life’s meaning up in this Patron |
I’m taking women to heaven and then I take em home |
I’m waking up with something 20-something fly shit |
Wanna stunt shit, all that new designer shit |
Word. |
she said she love me but she lying |
Shit I’m lying too! |
Told that bitch I love her for her mind |
Well that’s quite true, bust-a-move, head game lover boo |
Bust that pussy open, turn that sofa to a fuckin pool |
I’m playing Cody, smoking stogies, make the rhythm better |
I’m looking good in everything, but she look good in leather |
Call me cocky I love it, baby father a sucker |
I’m longer than em: I ain’t talking no Rockin Republic |
I don’t shop in the public, ain’t finna wait in line |
This not a free throw, this easy as a lay-up line |
If I got time, you got time too |
You with a boss, baby, so when I move you move |
Let’s have some drinks: Malibu and how I do |
And after that we do whatever we want to. |
Girl I’m in charge: that means I’m coolin |
I have my own agenda: that means I’m coolin |
Baby I’m large: that means I’m coolin |
Dealin with a winner: that mean I’m coolin |
Pimp-stroll on em, the pen cold on em |
Couldn’t fuck with it with a million nymphos on ya |
Bitches tend to love a nigga with the most money |
I tell em «honey, I know (Cher?), I’m so sunny» |
And this is all pro-bono |
All-Star weekend floor seats by the coaches |
Flying all frequent, reclining on beaches |
Half a millie on the road, y’all relyin on features |
I ain’t married, but I’m tryna find a keeper |
If she cook and keep her vagina like a secret |
And we fuck, I beast up and throw a little peace up |
So peace out, I’mma get up with you in like 3 months |
Word, absence will make the heart grow |
With that said, I ain’t around like my old combs |
And I be drinking all the brown straight, no Coke |
I’m chasing money, not the liquor, y’all ain’t even close |
So let’s have a toast, everything fine |
This ain’t a free throw, this easy as a lay-up line |