The silver Range Sport pilaf
A leather floor is what the cost
The silk I sport, it ain't store-bought
400 long up under the floorboards
Where I was born was more like World War 4
Don't compare your dog to these cornballs
You niggas just follow, we change the business model
My bitch look like a fitness model in Balenciagas
In Fendi pajamas, we the top niggas rhyming
Inside the chamber
These bum ass niggas was eating top ramen
I put a bag on your head, you won't make it past 10
They'll be speaking 'bout you in past tense
Brain fragments in the G-Wagon that splash the jean jacket
Jack your G-pack status, your self-esteem get shattered
Watching Harlem Nights, unchartered flights
I gave Cassandra hard pipe, the pussy farted twice
Necklace and wrist with ice, I got spice
You niggas sound aight but I'm nice, fuck niggas
Money and hoes, bitch
All I know, money and hoes, bitch
Money and hoes, bitch
Money, cars, and clothes, bitch, uh
I'm in rare form, my bitch got on Claiborne
Balmain, no ball and chain, my space is ordained for fame
You small change, my chains like frosted flakes
Frosting on the cake I orate to make the whores mate
Always in shape, you salty niggas holding water weight
I fly away, go way to Norway then walk away like Kaiser Soze
They say the platinum Rollie grey, mix Patron today with OJ
Okay, okay, tre-eighties to throw away
Load the in Bora Bora, both feet in the water
I might go even sport a diadora
To be woke is three and a quarter
Satin sheets, balls deep in your daughter
My aura more like Rich Porter, your shit is awkward
Christian Dior should get the bitches talking
Offerings, it's a dog eat dog world, pimp, uh
The house come with a satellite and tall fence
Who else since Prince could fit my trench?
You niggas corn chips
Money and hoes, bitch
All I know, money and hoes, bitch
Money and hoes, bitch
Money, cars, and clothes, bitch, uh