Mr. T

Brrr! Ayo Ayo Nike MAGS glow when I tip toe Fuck you mean? I been dope Half my shooters sniff coke With no aim, we better get low Tackma Lettermans with a TEC in it Feed fuck niggas rope, go put ya neck in it Got my troops in off-white boots Pulled up, I had my foot hangin' out the coupe Off white flannel lookin' like a lumberjack Wit the .30 poppin', you don't want none of that Dsquared apron over these squares Ronnie Fieg, I need size 9 in every pair Do a nigga filthy for the right price Dom Pérignon, the lobster and fried rice One brick, one brick All I need is one brick Ayo, drive-bys out of Teslas, scrape the pots for the extras Bodies dropping on the regular Run laps around these other rap niggas for fun At Fashion week with the M1, y'all niggas bums Killer designer, a serial killer Niggas thought I was just rhymin' iller Then I pulled out the stick, run ya jewels, run the money You tried to run and hopped the fence Tore his back up like junior nigga, filthy rich, wash my sins with Ace Allahu Akbar, all this work is flake I'ma be fly forever if the stove work She sniffin' so much molly, that bitch nose hurt I was on the path, getting money on the ave Fiends Milly Rock, they seeing that my work glass If shit slow up, I'ma look prettier in a mask The cracks in the chip bag, the MAC by the trash The .45 look big on his forehead Shot him more times, left that nigga more dead One brick, one brick All I need is one brick