4 DOOR - Intellectual

We don't pour up fake fours

Pull up in a whip, it's a four door

We don't pour up fake fours

And that motherfucka' go Sport mode

And my diamonds go two tone

Ice on my wrist

Shoutout Johnny, he blessed

Pull up on your bitch

On my dick, yeah, she kiss

Love to talk, he just acting

Now I'm with his fuckin' sis

Saint Laurent on my jacket

Moncler, Alyx on my wrist

I took his chain, it's a lick

And you know we skirt off four door

Pull up with blicks, yeah

My Draco got an extendo

Ripped it right off his wrist

Now I got a brand new two-tone

Feds tried to think of something quick

Saw the drum off the Draco

AR, with the attachment, we hit him right through the window

Yeah, he tried to act up, so we pop like a pimple

I just fuck your bae, no, I'm not with her I'm single

I just took his chips, no, I ain't talkin' no pringles

Hop in that motherfuckin' four door

Yeah the Beretta stay tucked, M.I.A, I go ghost

Yeah, we drilling then we off

Four dour always do the most

I ain't catching no case

I ain't with the federals

Hop up in a stolen Wraith

Now that's my fuckin' two door

Go for ten, that's me and Dk

Always up on the scoreboard

No, no, she's not with you

I ball, this ice around my neck

And I don't even hoop

I put some new Forgiato's, on a Bentley coupe

You know I play around with this hoe

I just hit then screw

In a four door

Count out the greens

Hop back in a motherfuckin' four door

Count out the guap, in a Maybach

Back in a motherfuckin' four door

Everyday a new fit, yeah

Mix the Kapital with the Gallery

Switched back to LA, had to go back to NYC

Rather be a lone wolf, then another one in the pack of sheep

All up on my own, yeah

Now it's time to play for keeps

Yeah, you got a Rollie

I just got a Patek Philippe

Yeah, you mad as fuck

I did this shit as a teen

Now this shit come quick

Like my guap, ain't talking no lead

Walked in Saks Fifth, cop some Dior and Ksubi

Ask for Max quick, no, these ain't diamonds, these is rubies

Ran up Marni switch

Soho, had to run up Celine

Talking bout Rick Owens

No, Maison Mihara Yasuhiro on my feet

Had to run it up

Thought I'm gone do the peel

Ain't talking no banana though

Acting hard up on the gram

But he pouring up fake fours

We don't pour up fake fours

Pull up with a fucking draco

And that motherfucka' go beam

And that motherfucka' got a beam

Got a nigga green like cash

Like cash