作词 : Brian Imanuel

作曲 : Brian Imanuel/Christian Dold

I just took test it’s sounding like my sh*t go stupid

Lil b*tch I got like 10 percent more left on my to do list

I rode by with my old car its a coup his name is Lucas

Mimosa with my old girl frag grenade that p*ssy boomin

I took that flight and Got a big bag man that sh*t is so taxing

I set goals then beat it like Jackson

Black on black my shirt from Pacsun

You not fye your homie just gassin

Phone goin thru my IG top request these ho*s trippin like banana peels are raining up and down the road

P*ssy bald like Joe Rogan, take her phone away

That b*tch tryna get photos, drivin me loco, tippin on 44s, back to the bathroom

Ayyyy

Permanent racks, I’m getting my plaques

I’m paying the tax, your pocket is lighter so we’ll never match

No square in my circle no time for all that

I’m Ridin round the city with the mothaf*ckin bros yeah

Drivin til the sun is up that’s how it tends to go yeah

Whippin Cutlass causing ruckus but I’m on that visa

Me not f*ckin with you boys you acting like a diva

I’m cuttin that track and I’m rapping and getting that bag but I’m missin that terminal 3

I just quit the pack and the stoges but if he want the smoke he could get it like Bella Hadid

I don’t do that violence, but come at me crazy I’ll Michael B Jordan yo a*s (i promise)

My biggest motivation is my dad and some kid saying that sh*t was trash

I count it, I count it, I count it, like I cannot sleep and I’m counting the sheeps on my bed

I miss when the sh*t I was scared of was eating the seeds and the tree that would grow on my head

I ain’t seen the fam in a couple of months it’s been 22 months that sh*t’s almost 2 years

I promise that when I come back to Jakarta that y’all gon be proud of the sh*t that I built

My neck is a mortgage, she got a iphone but don’t got no storage

550k for the DP the crib is 4 milli I’m never gon drive in no Porsche

Maybe a tes-la, ain’t got no g*ns but the wheels automatic

Not boutta drop, no bands for no Lambos the sh*t is too fast just to sit in some traffic

Ayy, b*tch

Uh, How the f*ck you hate & resent me for doing & trying my best

I don’t remember your birthday but I know my billing address

Que sera sera lil b*tch

Maybe this life is not fun as you think

I never look at my phone when it ring

I’m Ridin’ round the city with the mothaf*ckin bros yeah

Drivin’ til the sun is up that’s how it tends to go yeah

Whippin’ Cutlass causing ruckus but I’m on that visa

Me not f*ckin with you boys you acting like a diva

(I’m Ridin’ round the city with the mothaf*ckin bros yeah)

(Drivin’ til the sun is up that’s how it tends to go yeah)

(Whippin’ Cutlass causing ruckus but I’m on that visa)

(Me not f*ckin with you boys you acting like a diva)

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