Letra

When I made it rich, I went and bought a Bentley, bitch (Bitch) Walked into Saks Fifth, like "Gimme that and gimme this" (Gimme that) That's your 'Wednesday crush', you know Lil Fish done hit that shit (aye) You ain't gotta tell me, I know niggas envious Count that cash, while my little bitch bounce her ass (Bounce that ass) Richard Mille cost 150, that's your stash (That's your stash) Poppin' shit on Instagram, that's your past When we catch you out in traffic, just don't crash I got a bag, I'm doin' the most, niggas is lame, I am the GOAT They wanna gas, I'm givin' them smoke Jump off the jet, get on the boat I'm in a yacht, I'm with a thot, she givin' me throat Ah shit, cut off the top, Rolls Royce drop, I get Ghost (Skrrt) Pull up in a what the fuck was that, hoe We still throwin' super models off the backboard Alley-oop my bitch to Harden, I gave her back bro And you better not send my bitch back with her back broke, go First thing on my mind, when I wake up, is a check In the trenches with my slimes, they be trippin' off the X When I'm gone off these drugs I don't think about my ex And I ain't know that hoe for long, she asked for Audemars Piguet You want some diamonds You don't want no bag, you think you bougie, huh And you don't want no FashionNova, you want some Gucci, huh And when we out, I can't be seen 'cause I don't know who you fucked Why she think she playin' me? This shit be groupie love I think I'm bougie, Mike Amiri jeans cost me two G's I can't take her to the crib, go get some room keys Ooh, I think I'm bougie Came a long way from the trenches, ridin' CTA From the chopper to the jet, it look like GTA And they say I won't be shit, ain't make my GPA And I heard his ass a rat, I'm sippin' T-E-A I thought you was my B-O-Y, but your ass DEA I used to walk with a .22 inside my Kenzo Paperwork came back too dirty, gotta keep your head low If he too loud, and he too wild then he get paid for I know some niggas that'll take your head off for that bank roll Lawyer money up to my dawgs, then this case closed Boy, you just start sippin', we sold him Karo I popped some X, I was geekin', I DM'd J-Lo Jimmy Kimmel in Chicago, pull up Late Shows They put Lil' Varny in that chair, you know he ate those Niggas jumpin' dick to dick, man I hate those I remember I put a dime inside a Faygo First thing on my mind, when I wake up, is a check In the trenches with my slimes, they be trippin' off the X When I'm gone off these drugs, I don't think about my ex And I ain't know that hoe for long, she asked for Audemars Piguet You want some diamonds You don't want no bag, you think you bougie, huh And you don't want no FashionNova, you want some Gucci, huh And when we out, I can't be seen 'cause I don't know who you fucked Why she think she playin' me? This shit be groupie love I think I'm bougie, Mike Amiri jeans cost me two G's I can't take her to the crib, go get some room keys Ooh, I think I'm bougie
Writer(s): Robert Rihmeek Williams, Orlando Jahlil Tucker, Anthony Delvon Tucker, Durk D. Banks Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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