Wiz Khalifa feat. The Weeknd - Remember You текст песни

[Verse 1: The Weeknd]
She's about to earn some bragging rights,
I'm 'bout to give it up like I've been holding back all night,
Girl, take pride in what you want to do
Even if that means a new man every night inside of you.
Baby, I don't mind,
You can tell by how I roll,
'Cause my clique hard and my cup cold.
My talk slurred 'cause I'm so throwed
And I'm wiping sweat from my last show,
And he's TG and I'm XO.
I'm only here for one night
Then I'mma be a memory.
Say it in my ear, so I can hear what you're saying to me,
I got cups full of that Rose,
Smoke anything that's passed to me,
Don't worry 'bout my voice,
I won't need it for what I'm about to do to you.

[Hook: The Weeknd - x2]
Bad bitch, girl, I think I might get used to you,
I'mma have to take your number when I'm through with you.
All I ask of you is try to earn my memory,
Make me remember you like you remember me.

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Old rapping ass,
Lightyears past the class,
Hit it, don't have to pass,
Nigga, we the new Aftermath.
Niggas after fame, I just had to laugh,
Niggas after fame, I'm after cash,
You's a fan, I'm a player,
I'm the man, you a hater
And I only smoke papers,
That's how you tell I'm Taylor'd.
Nigga, listen,
Break it down, rolling weed on the island of my kitchen,
And not a thing goes down without permission,
Look, everything I got on I was made for,
Everything that I got I done came for,
All the shit that you see I done slaved for,
All the cars and the crib, yeah, that's paid for.
Need I say more?
Spend so much money on clothes
Said, "Fuck a store!", making my own.
I hope that you're rolling one up while you're singing along,
And know I was rolling one while I was making this song.
Pour out some shots,
You're taking too long,
Young and I'm rich,
And plus all of my friends on that Bombay and lemonade.

[Hook: x2]

[Verse 3: Wiz Khalifa]
I'm on some gin, you on some gin,
I'm moving slow, I'm driving fast,
I hit the weed, you take the wheel,
We lose control.
Drop the top in that '69,
And that motor roar in that old Chevelle,
Can't say a thing, how you supposed to feel.
Stacking all of this paper, dawg,
I like to call this shit old news,
It means haters jocking our old moves,
Popping champagne 'cause we made it,
Back of the Phantom, we faded,
All of this shit that I did I probably won't remember tomorrow.

[Hook: x2]