Yeah, yeah, I'm on the edge Hop up on that couch and roll a lotto out the bed I don't need a stylist, they can't fuck with Quiluret Try to count me out and now I'm big as Trippie Redd I hope I don't crash Scrapin' up the rim up on that side while ridin' fast I can't wait to pour up and cook up up in that lab This that brand new V, then them T's, LV tags This that brand new V, then them T's, LV tags I don't know nothin', no time for these bitches, I don't know Just brought her back, I'm a prom, these Tiffany's, now you step right on these bozo Yeah, got a undercover vest, cost me bout three racks and they don't know YSL drip on the chest, they found me that rack and put me in front row Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, my diamonds big like a wristload I put 4G bottles on my Tesla We can go to sleep in my Jetta Bitch, I got that on my dresser Bitch, I'm really rich, got my check up Yeah, my socks is capital Walk in Christian Dior with Kenzo, look at the carpet, I'm casual It's about Moran and Paris, yeah, yeah, yeah