Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stella McCartney , by - NAV. Release date: 10.11.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Stella McCartney |
| I’m tryna get you high, girl I’m tryna get you fly |
| I’m tryna get you fly, I’m tryna get you fly, girl |
| Stella McCartney, I’m drippin' on swag, and I swear it’s a whole 'nother wave |
| Brand new designer, gon' hop in the foreign, goin' and goin' to space, yeah |
| Secured the bag, it was Goyard |
| Stuffin' them racks in my Chrome Hearts |
| Spent a lil' quarter, went push start |
| Checked my persona, that’s a new Ferrari |
| Tellin' the truth, never lied to you |
| All I said was facts, yeah |
| Fresh Dior off the runway |
| Bought a gun store on a Sunday |
| Hit the switch on a Glock 40, my young niggas want bodies |
| I get fresh than a stylist, and I never keep the receipts, yeah |
| I put it on, when I put it on, I’m stackin' it high, I’m stackin' up neat, yeah |
| Drinkin' on muddy, I came in the Rolls buggy with Chanel on my feet, yeah |
| You never seen what I seen, yeah |
| I got codeine, yeah, on me, yeah |
| Givin' you something to see if you never seen it when it’s elite, yeah |
| Bales like pillows for ghost, yeah |
| Chane'-ne' pillows, my room, yeah |
| You couldn’t ruin my swag, I do it with no effort, you know I’ma pop, yeah |
| Soon as I spill it, they mop, yeah |
| Eat it up, every drop, yeah |
| Designer my drugs, designer my jeans, designer way down to my socks, yeah |
| You gotta match up to my fly, I can’t get caught with an imposter |
| I can go back in my archive, I have these bitches starstruck |
| They perpetrate my whole life, I know this shit feel awful |
| Even though I’m ridin' with my glizzy, every day I still feel awesome |
| Stella McCartney, I’m drippin' on swag, and I swear it’s a whole 'nother wave |
| Brand new designer, gon' hop in the foreign, goin' and goin' to space, yeah |
| Secured the bag, it was Goyard |
| Stuffin' them racks in my Chrome Hearts |
| Spent a lil' quarter, went push start |
| Checked my persona, that’s a new Ferrari |
| Tellin' the truth, never lied to you |
| All I said was facts, yeah |
| Fresh Dior off the runway |
| Bought a gun store on a Sunday |
| Hit the switch on a Glock 40, my young niggas want bodies |
| I get fresh than a stylist, and I never keep the receipts, yeah |
| Ballin', I keep my composure |
| She fuck with me for exposure |
| Drivin' V12, my motor (Skrr) |
| They gon' 'member my name when it’s over |
| Back of the back, I’m comfy |
| Had to put on for my country |
| Pourin' codeine in my tummy |
| Wipe your nose like it’s runny |
| No opp block, sippin' on bubbly |
| Pluto my twin like Dudley |
| I’m on the win like Rocky |
| Balenci my socks, I’m cocky |
| Certified G, I ate my fists |
| Brand new foreign, look fye with no kit |
| Drive in my city, top down, no tints |
| Walk in, red carpet, gotta pose for a pic' |
| Tricks up my sleeve, got bitches on took |
| Ridin' with a 30 clip under my gut |
| Multiple mortgages, I ain’t payin' no rent |
| Wanna die, my assistant gon' bend her fist |
| I ain’t GD but I’ll take care of plenty folk |
| Crack in the truck, got plenty coke |
| Wheezy outta here, more ways than boats |
| Every day I’m fresh, I’m sellin' soap |
| Stella McCartney, I’m drippin' on swag, and I swear it’s a whole 'nother wave |
| Brand new designer, gon' hop in the foreign, goin' and goin' to space, yeah |
| Secured the bag, it was Goyard |
| Stuffin' them racks in my Chrome Hearts |
| Spent a lil' quarter, went push start |
| Checked my persona, that’s a new Ferrari |
| Tellin' the truth, never lied to you |
| All I said was facts, yeah |
| Fresh Dior off the runway |
| Bought a gun store on a Sunday |
| Hit the switch on a Glock 40, my young niggas want bodies |
| I get fresh than a stylist, and I never keep the receipts, yeah |