Nardo Wick – Burning Up Lyrics

Nardo Wick Burning Up Lyrics (feat. The Kid LAROI)

(Damn, Trademark)

Quarter million-dollar vacation (Vacation)
Bitch, this is a money conversation (Oh yeah)
Look at where I come from, it’s amazing
Under California sun, on the beach gettin’ faded
Doubled up my cup and it’s a whole lot of dirty (Yeah)
Where I’m from, I’m the first on Forbes under thirty (Oh yeah)
They ain’t ever seen that shit (Yeah)
Brand new Porsche, 911, red velvet inside my whip (Ah, ah, ah, ah)

Bitch I’m burnin’ up, call a firetruck, they say I’m heatin’ up
Suitcase for my racks, they say that duffle wasn’t big enough
Sent her to the doctor ’cause her bottom wasn’t big enough
I got lots of choppers for the oppers, we gon’ hit ’em up (Grraow, grraow, grraow)
Give it up, this a robbery, I want my style back
We don’t do the woofin’, go find someone else to howl at (Grraow, grraow, grraow)
Big chains, swinging on my neck like a ball bat
If he try to touch it, put a hole in his ballcap (Baow, baow)
Grape guts, I put purple seats in my Trackhawk
Don’t get mad at me, she told me, “Hit her,” that ain’t my fault
General, never taking orders, I’m a big boss
If I tell ’em go, they gon’ spiral like a football
Bloop-bloop, Nardo came through drippin’ like a wet treat
She don’t want relations, she say she just wanna sext me
Never call my phone, if you need me, better text me

Quarter million-dollar vacation (Vacation)
Bitch, this is a money conversation (Oh yeah)
Look at where I come from, it’s amazing
Under California sun, on the beach getting faded
Doubled up my cup and it’s a whole lot of dirty (Yeah)
Where I’m from, I’m the first on Forbes under thirty (Oh yeah)
They ain’t ever seen that shit (Yeah)
Brand new Porsche, 911, red velvet inside my whip (Ah, ah, ah, ah)

I swear everybody want sometin’ from me
And if you see me at the club, I got a couple hundred, so be there
Ain’t no questions about it
Lot of checks in my balance
Ain’t no dancin’ around it, that lil’ ho a eater
Reminiscing on my math teacher, said I wouldn’t make it
Now I’m makin’ in a day what her salary was payin’
I bet that she feel crazy now
Paranoia every day so I light me a wood and face it

    Lyrics Details:

  • Written by: Horace Walls, Raymond Reichenbach, Tyler David Maline
  • Album: Who is Nardo Wick? (Deluxe)
  • Released: 2021