Swerve

It's not a trombone, it's a gold Draco

I've been movin' blocks like a damn Lego

Spin John Lynch on a watch, yeah

Lynch stock in front of my socks, yeah

Double cup of filling with guac, yeah

Mixed prometh in my popper, yeah

Some holly bitch suckin' my copper, yeah

She swallow my babies, no bopper, yeah

Hit 'em up and put 'em on Fox, yeah

Purge, keep two Glocks, yeah

Word, send 'em the drop, yeah

Swerve, that ain't no talk, yeah

I turn up and cover my broad, yeah

I treat the level like a Dodge, yeah

Put on the mask, put on the tank

Put on the gas, yeah, whoo

Pass a bitch off like Nash, yeah

500 hoes and slash, yeah

I shop in Dior for fashion

Rolls-Royce, still on a maskin'

The top of my fist got glass, yeah

Take your bike, yeah

Stall 'em out, yeah

Roll the dice, I bet a large amount, yeah

Don't cross that line, I keep a stick like Chug Mast

Swans is dancin', diamonds white, Marilyn Manson

Don't fuck with no pinches

I came out the trench with the Glock in my breeches

Leave a hickey on my dicky, white Vicky

Keep it glizzy, I can't go out like Ricky

Fuckin' in my white, yeah

Triple polluter, Sprite, please

Coco Chanel, I want iced tea, yep

Isococci, Clyde Christian, my IG

Chrome heart on my biker jeans

Don't play with me, please, let me squeeze

Pour blood in Lebanese

Carpet marks on her knees, yeah

Ayy, what you whippin'? Porsche

Do you be sippin'? Of course

Boom in that Yale, huh

Shop at Rodeo, huh

White polish on your nails, huh

You fuckin' with a player, huh

Goyard, trench coat, excuse me

Forty vibes on a big boat, excuse me

Stack it up, stack it up, stack it up

Two-stop phone, keep it doubled up

Mason Margiela's my button-up

All you see is red when my feet up

Your bitch is a curiosity, tell me something

I push on that one when I'm feelin' her

When I hop in that Jag, I'm leavin' her

Can't go outside, keep it Neenah

Swerve, yeah

Swerve, yeah

I keep ten bitches

I got white bitches

I got black bitches

I got yellow bitches

I got red bitches

I got orange bitches

I got blue bitches

I got green bitches

I got three bitches

Yeah, nah, I got different bitches everywhere you dig

Nah, for real

Shit gettin' tricky

Shit gettin' tricky out here, man

For real, I'm crazy

Who care? Hold up, hold up

I ain't done, for real

I crashed a Wraith to a palm tree

I hop on the jet with that gun

30 and a nine, I ain't fearin' none

She jump like white on my nine

She got some exotic shit from Milan

Swerve, yeah

Swerve, yeah