| Hit the Gucci store and make you mad, mad
|
| Hopped up out the wraith ain’t tryna brag, brag
|
| Suicide doors, suicide yah
|
| I’m just doing me so why you mad, mad
|
| Young supreme, Daytona beach, you know it’s me
|
| Top back on my 95 so you notice me
|
| If you ain’t talking bags, don’t hit my phone, what’s the point
|
| Ask around cause I run my town, yeah I’m the boss
|
| You can catch me creeping, crawling through the night
|
| If you see me, got a biddie by my side
|
| Got 'em all big, man they hating on me
|
| Told them send bottles all night, fuck sleep, fuck sleep, yeah
|
| Hit the Gucci store and make you mad, mad
|
| Hopped up out the wraith ain’t tryna brag, brag
|
| Suicide doors, suicide yah
|
| I’m just doing me so why you mad, mad
|
| Flexin' on them, just flexin' on them, like Ric Flair
|
| Diamonds on them, just shining on them, they love to stare
|
| Brought the Gucci fit just to take a pic, do it for the gram
|
| Got the duffle bags supreme, you feel, with a hundred grams
|
| You can catch me creeping, crawling through the night
|
| If you see me, got a biddie by my side
|
| Got 'em all big, man they hating on me
|
| Told them send bottles all night, fuck sleep, fuck sleep, yeah
|
| Hit the Gucci store and make you mad, mad
|
| Hopped up out the wraith ain’t tryna brag, brag
|
| Suicide doors, suicide yah
|
| I’m just doing me so why you mad, mad
|
| Hit the Gucci store and make you mad, mad
|
| Hopped up out the wraith ain’t tryna brag, brag
|
| Suicide doors, suicide yah
|
| I’m just doing me so why you mad, mad |