He says he's a gangster and I'm his little honey
He makes me sick sick, drown me in his money
Clipped like wings riding in his Bugatti
Château Marmont in the summer valleys
Gold chain, smoke haze watching me like a movie
Papi likes to watch, he's a voyeur baby
Noir heart he's made of all that's groovy
La la la, N-O-I-R, Noir!
La la la, N-O-I-R, Noir!
He thinks I'm not that clever but I'm a little smarty
Maybe if I'm badder, he'll call me his little party
He says I look like a cartoon ( I'm not a real girl)
But I still make him swoon ( he's not a real man)
Gold chain, smoke haze watching me like a movie
Papi likes to watch, he's a voyeur baby
Noir heart he's made of all that's groovy
La la la, N-O-I-R, Noir!
La la la, N-O-I-R, Noir!
YOU ARE READING
Beat Poetry
PoetryModern beat poetry, old school Kerouac, classic Lana Del Rey. If Lana Del Rey's music had an affair with Jack Kerouac's work their love child would be my poetry, set against the pop culture of America, the high of Cubano, the Lolita age where the gl...
