(IanoBeatz)
Designer talk, designer talk, designer talk
Designer talk, designer talk
Yeah, yeah (hol' up), yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Leggo, leggo

Who is you? I've never seen you before
I can turn on your bitch, got the keys to your whore
You know they love me when I walk in the store
Sippin' sparklin' water in Christian Dior
Fuck your bitch on the bus then continue the tour
I'm not lovin' you baby, you can't get adored
I play with my racks and I never get bored
Boy you lookin' like 12 'cause you whippin' a Ford

Amiri Jeans, I got bands in my pocket (yeah)
I cannot fit the stack in the wallet
You the plug, don't get pulled out the socket
Watch your back 'cause these niggas not solid
Asian bitch got me sippin' on Sake
Throw the meat in her mouth like Hibachi
I got reasons for me to be cocky
I'm the shit, bitch, I need me a potty
Niggas talking 'bout how I can't rap, okay
Then how I get rich off of rap?
These niggas they lame and that statement a fact
And that nigga my son, but I'm not claimin' that
Jump out the pussy then jump on a beat
I dunk on a rookie, welcome to the league
That boy is a simp, fell in love with a freak
Yeah, water on me, I swear life is a beach (let's go)
Okay, let's get it, let's go
Let's get it, let's go
They see a nigga with some racks, they think I sold my soul (that I sold my soul), no, no
See a nigga in Saks know I'm spendin' them rolls
I can't move my wrist, I swear to God it's froze, whoa, whoa
Designer walk, designer talk, designer bitch (yeah, designer bitch)
I like Chanel and Givenchy shit (I do)
Swear to God, I ain't think I'd be rich (I ain't think I'd be rich)
Okay, these niggas is sold out, got cash in the vault and I smoke out a zip
He mad that his girl likin' my pics, I mean, it is what it is (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Who is you? I've never seen you before
I can turn on your bitch, got the keys to your whore
You know they love me when I walk in the store (let's go)
Sippin' sparklin' water in Christian Dior
Fuck your bitch on the bus then continue the tour (let's go)
I'm not lovin' you baby, you can't get adored
I play with my racks and I never get bored
Boy you lookin' like 12 'cause you whippin' a Ford (woo)

Ayy, ayy (talk to 'em), ayy-ayy
I'm tryna chop a Wraith
Ayy, ayy, I apply all the pressure
We gon' kill the case (talk to 'em Keed)
I know your slime, that shoot the spot up (grrah, grrah, grrah), broad day
I know y'all don't wanna beef (no sir), 'cause YSL get straight (hey-hey, let's go)
Fisherman stick for the Uzi (hey-hey)
I'm busy, no time for no coochie (hey-hey)
Whole hunnid shots out the toolie (hey-hey, swag)
Ain't hesitatin' to pull it (hey-hey)
Okay, just make sure my machinery fully (woo, woo)
I'm steppin' in the Gucci socks, I'm winnin', I ain't never lost (never)
I'm sorry, I'll never talk (never)
Thug got the testicles (hey), you'll take a big loss (ha)
Yes I'm a big boss (ho), I'm not the task force (hey)
I'm a Belair Boy (hey), lil' bitch how I paid for (hey)
What we smokin'? It's real nuts
Pay attention, I'm real nosy
Full prescription, I'm real focused
Get some head from a bitch, she deep throat it

Who is you? I've never seen you before (ayy, ayy)
I can turn on your bitch, got the keys to your whore (slatt, slatt)
You know they love me when I walk in the store (I'm back, haha, hmm, slatt, slatt)
Sippin' sparklin' water in Christian Dior
Fuck your bitch on the bus then continue the tour
I'm not lovin' you baby, you can't get adored (slimeball)
I play with my racks and I never get bored
Boy you lookin' like 12 'cause you whippin' a Ford

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Jazz Butler, Raqhid Jevon Render