Went from a Rolex to an AP
They said I skipped Patek Philippe
I got on Cuban link chokers
It's like diamonds when a nigga breathe
Interrogated, I don't know nothin'
My charges all controlled substances
Pull up, Hellcat, I still be tryna talk to God
I run with aliens, can't wait to buy 'em Audemars
Outfit ten thousand, dog, I'm lookin' like I'm swipin' cards

Lambo', tinted
Rolls-Royce, rented
Backpack, Fendi
Hundred thousand in it
I'm hurt, but winnin'
Yeah, yeah, I'm hurt, but winnin'

When she get high like candles, she just blow me, and I put her out
In the hills, reminiscin' 'bout the shit I can't forget about
Had to find my way in, a nigga rock Louis Vuitton
A nigga go through a lot, I'm still surprised that we holdin' on
Load up them Glocks, and we go hunt for them niggas
Now his shirt look like ketchup
Go down, you try to check us
Walkin' with my chest up, yeah
Ride through my hood, I made it out here first
I see the J's through my lens, it hurt
Me and L, we was just like Wayne and Turk
Like me and L just like Wayne and Turk

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Writer(s): Dylan Cleary-Krell, Henri Velasco, Kobe Crawford