If I want brand new rags, I'ma hit up Rags If I want Gucci bags, I'ma hit Los Angeles ass If I want Louis bags, I'm calling Vergy fast Kim Jones let me pass, you paying too much tax For throwings on my racks, for throwings on my racks For throwings on my back, cuz Lammy threw me that Lil' Evan, you're my dad, thank you Johnny, K, and Matt Secure the diamonds, homie, homie, I ain't taking that Secure the bag for me, for me, for me, for me I got the cash, it's stuffed in a stash that you never see, like, jeez He let it spray, and I brought pay for Breeze, for Breeze, for Breeze My niggas is blastin', we ain't even sneeze to these, like, these Louise Yeah, runnin' and runnin' and runnin' away, it's like we have to scan keys Rollin' and runnin' on wings, when she get a key, she say, pretty please Yeah, yeah, this bitch put on a fleece I had to re-release, I had to re-release I couldn't deal with you niggas, I needed some peace You wasn't fuckin' with me, but that flaco told me everybody would see in a day Water on me, got me feelin' like I'm drownin' Lookin' for my lane, I think I just found it The fuckin' audacity, take a jab or stab at me Fulfillin' the feelin' of masterpiece, go grillin' a masterpiece On TV like Hathaway, if I step out of my building This shit'll start feelin' like Fashion Week Rip the new flow for the athletes, then tell them run to the factory Run to the factory, my new girl, I'm out of me She is an actress, she's dope, call up her majesty She all in the magazines, I would be mad too All of this accuracy, it's all I had to This in the club for me, for me, for me, for me She just pullin' up, but please believe she finna leave Flaco say you a C, LV bag, gotta stop her in the G's Motocross patch on the jeans, you niggas still run around with a T-shirt Got me a baby in Paris, I'm callin' up parents to get a visa I'm in and out of the country, no matter what country I go, I'ma leave ya We just pull up and blow the speakers Yeah, be with the gangsters and the tweakers The geese who run from police, my homies who homo release, yeah Yeah, thanks to Kim K, they roamin' the streets Shoutouts to Obama and me, came home and then bought a patee, yeah Yeah, like what do you mean, no roll up on me? The heat in the jeans, please add the same energy when we eat F***, beat that shit They wakin' up after they sleep Secure the bag for me, for me, for me, for me I got the cash, it's stuffed in the stash that you never see, I'm gross