Lyrics
Pick up to six lines to make a card.
Intro
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Chorus
I get higher than Balenciaga, won't know what day it is (Day it is)
Want me part of her personal problems, need me to pay the bills (Slatt)
Money coming, I feel great (Great)
Run it up the top ten way (No cap)
That lil' pussy ain't nothin' (Yeah)
In Emilio Pucci on this bitch (Yeah)
Verse
Audemars, four hundred on my wrist (Yeah)
Women don't say no, I got the glitch
Stopping my distractions on some shit (Cool)
Staying low, I'm posting on my fin'
Five-percent tinted on thе rental
Opp boy, I scratched him off the list
Grammy winnin', sitting on thе front row
Havin' rich sex in the condo
Fifty million cash, no fraud
Never been a hater, I applaud
We been in Japan putting on
I done had your main bitch goin'
Never tell them shit that I saw
I was taught to throw the cops off
Youngin poppin', I'm an idol
Rapping like this, I'm in rare form
Hit the trap and run it up (Yeah)
Junkies coming, cars pulling up (Skrrt, skrrt)
Raffle, gamble, FanDuel (Yeah)
Run it up in Nike buffs (I did)
Twenty bitches, Copper Cove (I do)
Ill nigga, catch a cold (She will)
Chinchilla, Teflon don (Huh)
I built up a lot of homes
Run it up at light speed, yeah
Bae, you got what I need, yeah
Come on, get on top of me, girl
Make me come and find you, yeah (Find your ass, find your ass)
Make me come and find you, yeah (Find your ass)
Bitch, I ain't never top two, never
Drop-top Ferraris through the ghetto
Need a cameraman every day
We gon' make a movie
We ain't even trying to, stupid
(Popping out, I'm head to toe in Gucci)
(Brodie beat this body like he Boosie)
(Rich youngins tryna shake the syrup)
(From the corner, took it 'round the world)
Still solid when nobody watching
Ran it up from shit, you gotta pop it
(I've been waiting, police on my body)
(They know that my lawyer them some problem)
I ain't never say I was the toughest
But you play, it's gon' be repercussions
(Run it up, I'm back inside my duffle)
(Tell them pussy niggas they in trouble)
Chorus
I get higher than Balenciaga, won't know what day it is (Day it is)
Want me part of her personal problems, need me to pay the bills (Slatt)
Money coming, I feel great (Great)
Run it up the top ten way (No cap)
That lil' pussy ain't nothin' (Yeah)
In Emilio Pucci on this bitch (Yeah)
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