Grrt
Ayo
January, February, Fashion Week hoppin'
Lucky we in Paris, back home, I would've shot him (mm)
Lurot apron, I crossed my fingers, that'll lock up
How the f*ck I turn one to three? I told 'em, "Potluck" (whip)
Forty drop a nigga, yeah (boom, boom, boom, boom)
Rolls gold Cartiers (boom, boom, boom)
Seen him with his kids, spared him
Caught him next day, aired him (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Ayo, you ever shop in Louis in that other, other room?
Dope spot lookin' like the Louvre (dope spot lookin' like the Louvre)
Hold on, hold on, hold on, had to drop a tear real quick
Ayo, pretty hoes say I'm gorgeous (mwah), everythin' I drive imported
Shooter said he want to snort it (sniff), cobra roof on the Porsches (skrrt)
Shot your block up, now it's scorchin' (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
You know my neck cost a fortune
You know my wrist look enormous (ah)
Closet full of never-worn shit
Woo, Margiela sweaters
Gucci on the trousers, coke by the mountains (ah)
Papi Steak in the Fontaine, snakeskin heal the balance
Got her walkin' on marble, f*ckin' on some Paulin couches (woo)
Paulin, Paulin, Paulin
Ayo, black and yellow Gatti, that's a bumble-bee (that's a bumble-bee, skrrt)
My fiends said the only thing they love is me (ah)
Two-hundred round drums, on some double D's (those double D's)
And tell your mama you can't f*ck with me
(And tell your mama you can't f*ck with me)
F*ck you and that bitch
Fly over the world
And you'll see just like a bird
It's Sly, Sly
Sly
Griselda
By Fashion Rebels