Leaving the Lot

Got an apartment, I diet on my sauce On a three level yacht with some bottles of drank Leaving the lot on the way to the bank Leaving the lot on the way to the bank Big body smell like a pound of Gelatti I made a pit stop, put some za in my tank Her Birkin bag hold a biscotti My bitch got a natural body, it's not what you think Switching my vehicle, switching my long Not tricking no hoes, I'm just tipping my driver Find me a plug out of town with the gas Someone cop me a bag, set the city on fire Crossing the border with Dora Explorer My cocaine whiter than Lizzie McGuire Dawg in his cell with a miniature Bible Brodie didn't tell, so I sent him a wire Cocaine whiter than Jennifer Lawrence The heron on Michael B. Jordan, it's tan Eight-hundred horses inside of the motor I pull up on niggas, it sound like the Klan We got a spot in the ceiling where we be high Working the pills, just unscrew the fan Curbside pick up, just like Walmart Shopping center, thank you, come again Flipping the Bentley, got tired of my chauffeur I gave him a day off of work, get some rest I need a Drake type of deal at the minimum Hunnit M's, we finna purchase a jet Boss Hog all y'all serve and collect Big 30 on me in a purplish 'Vette I really got rich off Percocets, it's been since Soulja Boy tell them ain't the first at that Riding in the S65, and it's 60 degrees, I need me a turtleneck Google myself, I'm worth a check You can hate on me, but the shit just ain't going to work It's goning to be the reverse effect Maybach rear end curtains eject Penthouse high where the turbulence at You broke out here, you allergic to racks I might bold up and go burgundy 'Lac She say I'm ungrateful 'cause I made her take out a Burberry bag Sippin' on drank, I'm getting purposely fat My money real neat, it be perfectly stacked Nigga you won't wanna walk in my shoes Or put on my clothes, my shirt is a rack Sellin' blue jeans like we working at Sak's Push a new Bentley, I blew out my motor Serving my Dad, now I'm a little older Neighbors got mad, they complain about the odor Rocking chinchilla, it chill on my shoulder Save all the shake and pay rent with the overs The blues go for 42 in Dakota Find out she stealing my money, I'ma choke her Riding in the back of the Benz like Opera Got an apartment, I diet on my sauce On a three level yacht with some bottles of drink Leaving the lot on the way to the bank Leaving the lot on the way to the bank Big body smell like a pound of Gelati I made a pit stop, put some za in my tank Her Birkin bag hold a biscotti, my bitch got a natural body, yeah Everyday, we can go eat me some choppas Sometimes I sit back and just eat me some noodles Ride with the girl in the bar in the back, if the police pull us over The car is an Uber Regular in yo' cigar, it's a hooker Yellow bitch washing my car with a loofah Flying in a rocket, I die they going to nuke them Ran in my guap went and bought a bazooka