| Can’t tell me shit
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| When I’m with my crew
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| Swagger to the max
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| In my Lo Bootz (x4)
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| Can’t tell me shit
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| When I’m with my crew
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| Swagger to the max
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| In my Lo Bootz
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| Photoshoot, 4-door coupe
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| Polo boots, turnt up through the roof
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| Me gon' hit my boots, then she hit my boots
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| Told her I was thirsty, she say «she had that juicy»
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| She’s willing and I’m able
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| I told her «I'll see you later»
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| So many horses in my closet
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| Makes my shit look like a stable
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| Crib like a zoo, all types of gators
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| His and her, fox furs, all types of flavors
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| This is not a Boxster, this a Panamera
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| I’ve been serving dick, you can check my clientele
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| My wrist costs a bail, my charm costs a chicken
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| And every time you see me
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| You can tell I’m fucking getting it
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| I used to wear the skippers
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| I’m polo’d to the zipper
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| I used to shop at Macy’s
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| When it used to be Riches
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| I used to it and you useless
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| So know the fucking difference
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| And fuck with one of mine
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| Somebody gonna end up missing
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| I sag too low, lift them up let the boot show
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| Leather dark red, the same color as Nuvo
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| Wrist hugging that Hublot, my pockets huge though
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| Denim TRU clothes, get worn out like a used ho
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| Polo, high boo, like «Hi boo»
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| Yeah I’m fly, cute in that hard top suicide coupe
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| Cannon on me while bumping that Trapavelli II
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| Slime Flu, coughing on niggas, must I remind you?
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| I’m used to this city noise, of pretty boys
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| Fatter that Diddy’s boys, Magic City wit Tity Boi
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| Silly boy, I make classics, Reebok 54's
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| With my whole crew, lo boots, like give me 50 more
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| Conjure for Bonjour, whore
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| Hop out the four-door with four broads
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| Look like The Law
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| It may be Juicy Couture, I bag them all
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| I had a mall, swagger tall
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| And I just happen to ball
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| I dive in that wet, call me Micheal Phelps
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| Louis logo, check a boy’s belt
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| 501s, mind on my money
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| Look at the tongue, these boots looking like diamonds
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| Pockets on Goliath and your pockets on a diet
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| OK, alright I try it, if I like it then I’ll buy it
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| Except for some pussy, OK you’re right, I’m lying
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| Cause if that pussy good, Imma motherfucking buy it
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| And yeah I’m from the city where these bitches get tipsy
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| Niggas smoke strong, on the phone and talk riches
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| Righteous prices, baking soda vices
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| And yeah I’m in a new car, and I don’t have a license
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| Your girlfriend like it, I met her on tour
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| And every time she sees me, she calls me Ralph Lauren
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| Imma Ralph Lauren story, Ralph Lauren mansion
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| And when it gets cool
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| I wear my Ralph Lauren jacket |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Lo Bootz , by - 2 Chainz. Song from the album Codeine Cowboy, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп