Told her to put that shit on
Told her to put that shit on
(Ayy, Manzo, we got a hit, boy)
Young Gunna, Young Gunna the one
(Ooh, Bi-Bighead on the beat)
Dark-ass shades, haters can’t see my face
Secure my vibe, hater get out my space
Foreign my car, hold on, foreign my bitch, okay
Big-ol’ guns, hitters on deck, don’t play
Just checking my funds, Heart frozen, you can tell I’m a product of the motherfucking slums
Strap in my palms, gorilla in the streets, yeah, Comme des Garçons with the Rick Owens on me, show ’em how to put this shit on
I’ma show ’em how put this shit on
Fashion show at Louis Vuitton
I put Dior on my Jordan 1’s
I put the Rolls Royce droptop down
Got a nice breeze and I feel the sun
Biscotti weed coming out my lungs
Get a lot of G’s, I can spend ’em for fun
She never seen, now I’m one over one
Young Gunna, Young Gunna the one
He talking real tough like he never been stung
I hope that lil’ boy know I come with a gun
Slimy and shady, don’t back down for none
I count up it daily, unlimited funds
{?} the money gon’ come
I still got a habit, they thought I was done
Dark-ass shades, haters can’t see my face
Secure my vibe, hater get out my space
Foreign my car, hold on, foreign my bitch, okay
Big-ol’ guns, hitters on deck, don’t play
Just checking my funds, Heart frozen, you can tell I’m a product of the motherfucking slums
Strap in my palms, gorilla in the streets, yeah, Comme des Garçons with the Rick Owens on me, show ’em how to put this shit on
Dark-ass shades
I’ma show ’em how to put this shit on
Big rackades
I’ma show ’em how to put this shit on
Jumped right off the ship now I’m warm
Amiri my britches, I dior my kicks, I’ma show ’em how to put this shit on
My bitch can’t wear Need a six to perform
My lil’ college freak like fucking in her dorm
When I put the gang on a charm
With Gunna and I got a gun
Put that shit on, I do that for fun, been doing it since I was young
I’m shining on time
Wipe that boy nose, when he know I was slime
dripper, can’t fuck with your kind
My diamonds, they blind
That’s why I gotta rock…
Dark-ass shades, haters can’t see my face
Secure my vibe, hater get out my space
Foreign my car, hold on, foreign my bitch, okay
Big-ol’ guns, hitters on deck, don’t play
Just checking my funds, Heart frozen, you can tell I’m a product of the motherfucking slums
my palms, gorilla in the streets, yeah, Comme des Garçons with the Rick Owens on me, show ’em how to put this shit on
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