[Intro]

Gang

Yeah

W3

Swisha Talk

Yeah

[Chorus]

I get too lost in my feelings

What is this that I'm feeling?

Money tall to a ceiling

Stack it up to a million

Gotta get it

I trust no hoe

That be grilling lettuce

Niggas be snitching

Boy ain't no telling

I call my bro

And he get the yelling

I pour a whole four

With no Smith and Wesson

Yeah

I get too lost in my feelings

What is this that I'm feeling?

Money tall to a ceiling

Stack it up to a million

Gotta get it

I trust no hoe

That be grilling lettuce

Niggas be snitching

Boy ain't no telling

I call my bro

And he get the yelling

I pour a whole four

With no Smith and Wesson

[Verse 1]

Know my Rollie chain on gold

Niggas flexing like I’m on the fucking honor roll

I'm the bankroll

Know I’m flexing that’s for sure

I'm the bankroll

Treat my niggas like my own

Your bitch liking what I own

These ain’t Converse

These Rick Owens

Rock expensive clothes, yeah

All my clothes are sewn

She be feenin'

Yeah she blowin' up my phone, yeah

All night

Yeah she blowin' up my phone, yeah

It’s alright

She get benty

She like sipping on Patron

Then she hit my phone

Say she need that new Vlone

Bitch get off my phone

I don’t like your tone

I don’t like your tone, yeah

[Chorus]

I get too lost in my feelings

What is this that I'm feeling?

Money tall to a ceiling

Stack it up to a million

Gotta get it

I trust no hoe

That be grilling lettuce

Niggas be snitching

Boy ain't no telling

I call my bro

And he get the yelling

I pour a whole four

With no Smith and Wesson

Yeah

I get too lost in my feelings

What is this that I'm feeling?

Money tall to a ceiling

Stack it up to a million

Gotta get it

I trust no hoe

That be grilling lettuce

Niggas be snitching

Boy ain't no telling

I call my bro

And he get the yelling

I pour a whole four

With no Smith and Wesson