Lyrics:
bend the rules, I play by the book
(yeah) all I want's a bitch gettin' money
I don't really give a fuck how she look
Let's get it, nigga
team
Louis Jeans
I'm in Louis Jeans
Bitch
Louis Jeans
I'm in vintage Tommy bitch but it's a Louis Jeans fit
And she tipsy tryna find us
Cause she heard
by a garbage can
The next young freak I met was Red
I took her to the house and she gave me head
She likes to freak is all she said
We jumped in
by a garbage can
The next young freak I met was Red
I took her to the house and she gave me head
She likes to freak is all she said
We jumped in
Paul?
And my wife is all like "no, that ain't Paul,
Now tell me, who's this Paul?
She says "Oh, he's just some guy
Who goes to school with me
I sat
Mami on it
She got ten racks from the corleone
She tell him buy me chanel
Louis v and ralph
Dissin' the coupe she want
Four seats when they revvin'
Louis
Louis bakes from the heart
The bread, George
I mean the bread, George
And then in bed, George
I mean he kneads me
I mean like dough, George
want to but can today
Hands, use them like anime
He shoot his shot, mine gone spray
Glock, use it like pam today
She want the Fendi the Prada Givenchy
the night with me
Brand new money, I put it on
I been puttin' on
I can't leave her 'lone if
She don't make me rich
I had to get it by my 'lone
Call it what
it's finna go up (Jesus)
A year done went by, her daughter just turned one (Lord)
And she's still dependent on her mom
Big brother in the streets, he
it's finna go up (Jesus)
A year done went by, her daughter just turned one (Lord)
And she's still dependent on her mom
Big brother in the streets, he
muhfucka!
And they still ain't ready yet for a muhfucka!
Yeezy might have to go and put his Louis on
I'm 'bout to go Gucci in the Gucci store
It's
wanna divide the yam like it equate the math?
That shit don't add up, you're making them mad as fuck
She said she came out here to find an A-list rapper
got from you
Manolo and Prada's her style
Louis, Burberry by the pile
All them things she got, she got from you
All them things she got, she got
a semester off
Wishing on a superstar
Trippy life is too bizarre
Quickie in my roofless car
Bust a nut and blew the horn
When she stomp it's Louis Vuitton
thing) What's up with it
(Hot thing) What's up with it
(Hot thing) What's up with it
Shorty got a body that jeans can't hold
And she moving like she
of the lobby
Like she instantly wanted to top me
VVS's made her slippery and watery
She like making movies like Sean Connery
I run her body like it's pottery
I
four (uh), I don't need em (nah)
Give and go like I play for the Lakers (drop)
Serve by the half but it came by the acre (yeah)
Knock out the park like I
Count it on the floor, count it on the floor
There go a bag full of money knocking at the door
He say he just ran out, he need a couple more
I'm
gyal just came to the booth and asked for a wheel
She never heard drill in Atlanta
Arabic ting told me that I look like Youssef look like Hamza
Habibti
show
Throwin' up money, I'm watchin' it float
Throwing up liquor, I don't drink Patron
Rockin' Off White like the KKK
I'm mixing Louis, Amiri, and Bape
fascinate us by
How far they go with
Their unconventionality we secretly
Admire and respect them for this we
Wish we could act more like they do
Normally it
on the ground
She walk by like it ain't nothing happened
I don't know why I love so hard
Why the ones I choose always bad
Why they just want me because
Took her to the chanel store
Buy her things that she can't afford
Put my dick in her spinal chord
It's like we're acting porn
Stop calling her phone
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