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🎵 Title: Paris Nights, London Smoke
[Hook]
From Paris nights to London smoke
I Rome, I pray but I still move cold
Like Palmer from Madrid to Dubai, I land then ghost
Barcelona breeze when I’m doin’ the most
Stamped-up pages, my passport glow
Jet lag drip but the game still know
World too wide, can’t stay in one post
Barcelona breeze when I’m doin’ the most
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[Verse 1]
In Paris, she call me mon amour
Croissant crumbs on the Dior floor
Eiffel views with the ting I adore
But I’m gone by noon, that’s the life I swore
London fog with the pain I know
Bully face, had to dodge that show
Came from the block where the hope runs low
Now it’s foreign plates when I park that wro’
Rome got me feelin’ divine
Toss coins in the Trevi like “make you mine”
But the roads still ring — can’t waste no time
Kiss her cheek, then I cut that line
---
[Hook]
From Paris nights to London smoke
I Rome, I pray but I still move cold
Like Palmer from Madrid to Dubai, I land then ghost
Barcelona breeze when I’m doin’ the most
---
[Verse 2]
Madrid, she spicy, call me mi rey
Rosé chilled, she don’t care what I say
She want love but I move like prey
Too many snakes on the jet these days
Barcelona girl with a waist like wine
Golden skin with a free-born mind
Dance like the rhythm don’t care ’bout time
But I’m gone with the breeze, tryna stick to mine
Dubai gold but my wrist stay froze
Heat on my neck but the drip still shows
Told the plug “don’t talk, just move those loads”
From dunes to the sky, my story grows
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[Bridge – Beat Switch]
No layovers, no pit stops
Just new stamps and TikToks
She post me once, I’m in her bio
I post her never — that’s my style though
Real G’s move like weather
Cloth I’m cut from, man can’t measure
Don’t rate man ‘cause his neck got froze
I rate man if he still got hope
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[Final Hook – x2]
From Paris nights to London smoke
I Rome, I pray but I still move cold
Like Palmer from Madrid to Dubai, I land then ghost
Barcelona breeze when I’m doin’ the most
Jet lag drip, I don’t chase no fame
I just chase peace when I board that plane
Different world but the pain still same
So I rhyme my route — that’s the global game
This way it’s punchier, tighter, and ready for a 142–145 BPM airy guitar drill beat
Russianooak
