[Part I]

[Verse]

I'm not tying my shoes for nobody that wasn't with me in the first place (I— I-I-I love you)

Wake up, bae, it's our first day

Fuck it, I treat every day like my birthday

My lil' bro tryna catch him a B, told him chill real quick, he too thirsty

I just been coolin', I just been sittin' in the back of the crib, but it's workin'

I can't speak to that dumbass hoe, real quick 'cause he keep on lurkin', uh

He wanna play like that, let's go out on Canal and go buy you a Birkin

Mama was checkin' my statements, she got mad at me, too many purchase

I had to scrap me the album, fuck, it's like too many fuckin' versions

Like, I could go rock out any city, any show, I don't really need a permit

Uh, trust me, I know that it's workin'

Brand new beat, go berserk, then I swerve it

Stay on my dolo, I curve it

I stay on my dolo, I curve it

My lil' bro up in Riverside Park tryna hit that flip then curve it

(Ah) Oh, fuck

Baby, like, what you want? What you know?

I put like thirty bands on the floor just to flex on my bitch-ass uncle

Ayy, she said she got her a bush, I don't care, fuck it, I'll dive in the jungle

I'm not tryna deal with the bullshit, know that that DM can flunk 'em (Ah)

So while I'm hittin' my space right now, tryna hit that play, like solo

He fell off like shit, he a bitch, I know he down, solo

Hit Vinted, I don't like Soho

Yeah, lil' baby, you already know, though

I'm 'bout to take me that trip to Kyoto (Huh, ah, bitch)

(Huh, ah, bitch)

(Huh, ah, bitch)

(Huh, ah, bitch)

(Huh, yeah, huh, uh)

(Huh, yeah, huh, huh)

(Huh, yeah, psh)

[Part II]

[Verse]

Yeah, yeah

These bitches go stupid, I'm 'bout to lose it

Only thing I really care 'bout, the music

Your talk too fake, your ass ain't gon' do shit

Gettin' that money, I know you could do it

I'm gettin' money, I'm countin' that blue strip, blue strip, blue strip, blue strip, blue strip, fuck

Just give me a reason to tweak out

I'm in a new BnB with my feet out

Got new glasses, I can see now

You ain't wanna talk, why you gon' speak down?

I'ma run to the play with my feet down

You don't wanna look up, then I'll see you down

Yeah, I know I got shit on my feet now

When you high, your doubts, they gon' swoop down

Ayy, it's three-hundred sixty-five days in a year, how your bro got three-hundred and sixty?

Ayy, he don't own none of the rights to his shit 'cause he signed a three-hundred and sixty

Uh, this not a G-wagon, I'ma ride in a horse-wagon like the fifties

We next up out the city, uh

Hold on bitch, get with me

Uh, bitch, I'm with ali rq in the back, get near us

I'm with Sheroy, get near us

No I can't argue with a one-off appearance

This Yamamoto, this not no Amiri

This Takahiro, I'm not wearin' Theory

Played that lil' song in Atlanta quick

I already told the crowd get near me

Old ass crib, man, this shit too eerie

Already know how you feelin', I'm weary

Already know how you feelin', you cheerin'

Don't fuck with guns, I don't use Siri

Can't take him serious, boy like, really? (Uh)