[Verse 1] Still that bitch with all the guys like Janet and the Jackson 5 Told 'em I'd be rich by twenty-five now hoes actin' surprised Made it out to Hollywood I still ain't lost my ratchet side Bitch think she flexin' in that fit I told her, "Even maggots fly" Red eye I'm jet laggin' (Jet laggin') since rode in the band wagon (Band wagon) New whip, I don't even wanna drive that shit prolly let my mans have it (Skrrt, skrrt) Folks know I got a Xan habit If you pull the Glock out I wouldn't stand by it (Watch out) This that drip that ain't online you'll have to go hand buy it Yeah, A-M-G-6-3, with the window tint I don't even see no bitch (I don't even see no ho) Know I'm a star I could go bar for bar I don't even need no hit (Uh-huh) Princess cut, my diamonds crushed up had to go bleed my wrist Neiman Marcus, private shopper had to double C my fit
Very rare, perfect derriere, I give him hell though I'm everywhere, Gucci carrier but I don't sell, dope Got all these niggas trippin' Shoe ain't laced, go switch to velcro Think you steppin'? Get to poppin' at your feet You rockin' shell toes Me and mine? We gon' ride like it's Universal Foreign cars outside you bitches ain't never heard of Goin' off everytime and I can tell it hurts ‘em If you on the other side, I hope you take it personal I cannot go back and forth with you I got work to do (Lil' bitch) You don't have to see me, you gon' hear me first Them Perelli's skirting, ooh Bank account checked up, VVS'd up Bitch, I got right now, fuck who next up
I'm so fuckin' dope, I might just make my own strain How these bitches ain't got clout but tryna make a OnlyFans? (Dummy) We made it so I'm faded just like when the song ends I'm so up, next offer I might tell the label, "No, advance" I ain't tryna make new friends but I'll let that nigga be my Paypal Mean muggin' phone like a horn [?] With some real bitches, we don't fake smile Pretty as fuck, so whenever he nut nigga tell me don't put my face down Slim and Shady, spit it like 8 Mile Bitches only hitting from the waist down
Very rare, perfect derriere, I give him hell though I'm everywhere, Gucci carrier but I don't sell, dope Got all these niggas trippin' Shoe ain't laced, switch to velcro Think you steppin'? Get to poppin' at your feet You rockin' shell toes Me and mine? We gon' ride like it's Universal Foreign cars outside you bitches ain't never heard of Goin' off every time and I can tell it hurts ‘em If you on the other side, I hope you take it personal I cannot go back and forth with you I got work to do (Lil' bitch) You don't have to see me, you gon' hear me first Them Perelli's skirting, ooh Bank account checked up, VVS'd up Bitch, I got right now, fuck who next up
Compositores: Alexander Hollis Chauncey (Chauncey A Hollis), Quentin M Miller (Milla), Seandrea Sledge (Dreezy) ECAD: Obra #34481064