| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose
|
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors
|
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold
|
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home
|
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah
|
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah
|
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur
|
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup, yeah
|
| X poppin', we so popular, we know
|
| Bada bing, her body boom, she need a comb, yeah
|
| Bomb pussy, might have to take her on the road
|
| Her nigga lame, he ain’t even chase no check, yeah, tell him 'bout it
|
| Just left from Coachella, I’m pullin' vibes every song
|
| Hundred round sticks, no reload
|
| They be stealin' sounds but we evolve
|
| Made a movie in Hollywood, I look like a star, yeah
|
| Used to play the background, we made it
|
| She used to be your player, but, now I’m her favorite
|
| Eighty, sixty grand, yeah, YSL made it
|
| Livin' for the moment, you catch a case and then you frame it
|
| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose
|
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors
|
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold
|
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home
|
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah
|
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah
|
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur
|
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup
|
| Tesla poppin', and I whip it on my own
|
| Still remember, we would trap out mobile homes
|
| In the trap, I had three different mobile phones
|
| They copy drip, I think I gotta hundred clones
|
| Water 'round my neck, I turn that shit into a island
|
| I never ran in my life, last time was when I heard the sirens
|
| When I’m in the Lamb I tell these bitches give me silence
|
| Bitch, It’s YSL, we don’t ever need no stylist
|
| I’m in California with the next nigga ho
|
| Me and Strick in a Bentley, we got Tecs in the doors
|
| Looking for your bitch, then why she texting me for?
|
| All my bitches bad, you can never fuck with no bitch, no
|
| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose
|
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors
|
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold
|
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home
|
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah
|
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah
|
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur
|
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup |