Lyrics Hibachi - Strick, Duke

Hibachi

Wheezy outta here
Yeah
Hollywood, we caught vibes at Katana
Hotter dinner shit, steak and hibachi
Count the cash, lace the codeine with molly
I’m like Hugh Heff, my bitches get money
I wear Dior trainers, not Huaraches
Bentley Mulsanne, misogyny
Bitch like Madonna beside me
Ice out the Carti' and AP (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a Cuban link
Dominican mamis still callin' me papi
Passport my car out the country (Yeah)
We came from nothin' to luxury
Yeah, they hated, but I know that really, they love me
All along, yeah, they was fronting
The coupe got the trunk in the front end
(Wheezy outta here)
Count up a check when I’m horny (Horny)
I spent a dub up in Barney’s (Barney's)
We keep them straps like the army (Army)
All them niggas on go, you can’t harm me (Harm me)
Fuck TSA, we flew here on a jet
Speak when you say my name, just have respect
I cannot move if you ain’t got a check
I like when she give me that neck (Suck it)
My bitch is bad and wet
Diamonds, they hittin', they look like baguettes (Splash)
I cannot play with no lame in the street
This shit ain’t checkers, this chess (This chess)
I’m kickin' shit like a punter
I promise, and I do this shit for my mama (Shit)
Whip up a whole brick in front of your eyes
Cook it up like Benihana’s
(Wheezy outta here)
Hollywood, we caught vibes at Katana
Hotter dinner shit, steak and hibachi
Count the cash, lace the codeine with molly
I’m like Hugh Heff, my bitches get money
I wear Dior trainers, not Huaraches
Bentley Mulsanne, misogyny
Bitch like Madonna beside me
Ice out the Carti' and AP (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a Cuban link
Dominican mamis still callin' me papi
Passport my car out the country (Yeah)
We came from nothin' to luxury
Yeah, they hated, but I know that really, they love me
All along, yeah, they was fronting
The coupe got the trunk in the front end
(Wheezy outta here)
Yeah, jumped off the porch, all my niggas need large chairs
Got the floor full of green like a lawn, yeah
Tell her shake it, you know we got more, yeah
Yeah, all this ice, my arm damn near went numb, yeah
YSL clarity on my charm, yeah
Ayy, in Cali we rollin' exclusives
Blue Magic, the coupe Frank Lucas
Give her dope, then she smoke it like cookie
Wearin' Dior, my aunt used to boost it
Luxury tax on this drip, they ain’t seen yet
Cozy paintin' on my jean jacket
Baguettes dangle on my necklace
They seen me somewhere with a actress
(Wheezy outta here)
Hollywood, we caught vibes at Katana
Hotter dinner shit, steak and hibachi
Count the cash, lace the codeine with molly
I’m like Hugh Heff, my bitches get money
I wear Dior trainers, not Huaraches
Bentley Mulsanne, misogyny
Bitch like Madonna beside me
Ice out the Carti' and AP (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got a Cuban link
Dominican mamis still callin' me papi
Passport my car out the country (Yeah)
We came from nothin' to luxury
Yeah, they hated, but I know that really, they love me
All along, yeah, they was fronting
The coupe got the trunk in the front end
(Wheezy outta here)