Letras
Yeah
You know that feeling from the paper plates
Hitters squinting like they just been maced
Rub it in their face until it's chafe (woo, yeah)
Richard Mille ain't no time to wait (woo, yeah)
Storm Kawasaki MMA (yeah, right)
Flame throwin' zombies out the way
In the cut like a razor
Hunnid thou' for the Jacob
Clear face, no makeup
On the finger, a glacier
Hood Pope got his cake up
Got a scope with a laser
Up in Harlem buyin' acres
My closet in danger
Hit her when I had the custom new teeth
All these cuts like I'm friends with Bruce Lee
Hundred hoes like I'm a loose leaf
Jungle music like I'm Fela Kuti
Tunnel vision, nigga, fuck the groupies
You's a fan, how you try to sue me?
Mama first class, now she boujie
Livin' bigger than B.I.G. in "Juicy"
Yeah
You know that feeling from the paper plates
Hitters squinting like they just been maced
Rub it in their face until it's chafe (woo, yeah)
Richard Mille ain't no time to wait (woo, yeah)
Storm Kawasaki MMA (yeah, right)
Flame throwin' zombies out the way
Julius Caesar with a Caesar
Floatin' on 'em like Jesus
Pass the keys to the beamer
Piss Chris Fallica
Not if I'm one to lead her
Flip phone got the heaters
Another deal with Adidas
You can miss with the features
I'm Puff with the grey patch sippin' Chris
Only nigga make my niggas rich
Life is sweeter than Licorice
Uncle used to be mixin' grits
Tiffanys put the wrist in drip
God, I'm sicker than syphilis
Chariot for my Emperors
P in Harlem and they kickin' flips
You know that feeling from the paper plates (woo)
Hitter squintin' like they just been maced (right, yeah)
Rub it in their face until it's chafe (woo, yeah)
Richard Mille ain't no time to wait (woo)