Lyrics Azealia Banks

Azealia Banks

JFK

First lady on the floor, move sexy in Dior

As we, go on and on and on from the dusk till the dawn

Fully vampin' on the song, it’s a ball not a prom

Have a pour at the bar, at the promenade- yo shorty lookin' gorge

The allure of a star

They applaud and in awe...

The chips in her palm, what’s a pigeon to a swan?

A queen to a pawn?

Luxury is on looking to explore, the Bambi on the lawn

Red carpet to the car, in a garment from the gods

I drips and Bogart - you're a target from the start

Assassinate the look - murdering the gown

Fashion-Killa, the body dipped in brown

Get the picture, nobody fit the crown

She’s the winner, (in) the lobby with a smile!

Jet black weave bout the length of a mile

Jet black feet while I clever craft styles

Miss I’ll flip this and dip-dip twaow!

Miss, I been this, you must’ve missed out

Dope when dressed up, ya boy strung out...

His Girl is pressed, now behave, calm down

Sip on old grapes and be laid lounge...

Baby you look late, come peep my now

Giving them good taste, the great’s don’t have

Mommy keep blaze, better get that cake

Shimmy it on stage, I’m giving them good face...

Somebody on her page, somebody is amazed...

It’s just another day for the dame, just another day for the dame

I am Miss Icon and I swore, I saw...

A shade of green on ya and I took (I took)

Time to teach ya, taught an allure, allure...

A la-dy you wasn't before..

Finer, free, high-modern and more (and more)

You favor me, now how I adore ya!

Do you, dine or tea, Italian for two?

A day to be around here with you.. with you

(Hey!)

Grand champ, it’s the bougie - the handsome

Romance in advance, hit ya boo on her Samsung

Beach bunnies, from Aruba to Cancun

Ya bitch save money just to move with the anthem

So prepare my niggas, gourmet grape taste, we rare my niggas

He where? He wear flair, beware my niggas

You scared, you see-through, you clear my nigga

You boys Scooby and Doo, I’m really groovy and frost

You niggas cooped in a hoop, I’m Cooley High in the Porsche

I put these niggas on mute, to whom it may not concern...

I got the bitch with the juice, you got the bitch with the germ

2Pac in the coup, westside with the herb

I got a flock of the hoots, a-list of the birds

White model the muse, Arizona the first

I took a trip from the Moon, to JFK for that work

I am Miss Icon, I’ve seen you all of green, high-modern miss, I taught - I’ll teach you how to allure!

Dine or Tea, Italian miss, I oughta meet ya darling, how finer free now how I adore - ya!