Copped the drop top Hummer for the summer yeah
Goyard bag with a hundred yeah
And I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Say I know I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Wakin' up on the hills right on Runyon yeah
Smokin' on that gas, smell like FUNYUN yeah
Like call my private chef hold my stomach in
Yeah I like 'em fried, she like 'em sunny eggs

Ew, those some runny eggs
I might flex around the world and then I start again
I might flex around your girl and then I fuck again
And the funny thing is you gon' cuff again
Yeah I advise you
Stop all the hatin' and you'll make it too
Like I done had a situation but I made it through
I paid a thousand for these shoes, for my Yeezy cuffs too

Got the drop top runnin' for the summer yeah, ay
Goyard bags full of hundreds yeah
And I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Say I know I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Wakin' up on the hills right by Runyon yeah
Smokin' on that gas, smell like FUNYUN yeah
Like I'm a private chef, cook for money yeah
Hey white and yellow gold just like sunny eggs

Look I just think shorty like my go hard swag
Turn my brown bags to a Goyard bag
My son told me keep makin' these old farts mad
He said you drive this foreign like a go-kart dad
Spittin' like they got it, they on that mission
Lookin' different when you see 'em rappers catfishin'
Either Barney's, Neiman Marcus, so we Saks Fifthin'
Always makin' movies but we never act different, no
Never changed up I just leveled up
And I watch the gold diggers pick they shovels up
Watchin' thirsty niggas try to pick my beverage up
Never spoke on 'em, I won't bring the devil up, no
Sometimes sayin' nothin' sayin' somethin'
When your money talks now you're sayin' somethin'
Ay if you ain't get a message that's a message
Look y'all know who the freshest of the freshest

Got the drop top runnin' for the summer yeah
Goyard bags full of hundreds yeah
And I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Say I know I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Wakin' up on the hills right by Runyon yeah
Smokin' on that gas, smell like FUNYUN yeah
Like I'm a private chef, cook for money yeah
Hey white and yellow gold just like sunny eggs

I've been talkin' to my idol
I've been talkin' to my idol
Nowadays I feel like I'm my own idol
Scratch her off the list like a vinyl
Real girl, I don't really like her
I just really wanna just spike her
(Yeah, yeah) Uh, you know I night ya
Hope ya wasn't thinkin' I'mma wife ya

Got the drop top runnin' and I got guap comin'
Now we eatin' garlic noodles and they not Top Ramen
I'm not just laid up with a baddie, got some slop top from her
Studio all winter just to drop hot summers, yeah
I be in my bag with no travel
Let you be the judge, get the gavel
I think if I want you I can have you
Every time I pull up on the avenue

Copped the drop top Hummer for the summer yeah
Goyard bag with a hundred yeah
And I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Say I know I know why you mad 'cause I'm stuntin' yeah
Wakin' up on the hills right on Runyon yeah
Smokin' on that gas, smell like FUNYUN yeah
Like call my private chef hold my stomach in
Yeah I like 'em fried, she like 'em sunny eggs

Copyright: Missing Link Music, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Ultra Tunes, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Andre Benjamin, Antwan Patton, Erica Wright, John Jackson, Joi Elaine Gilliam, Keith Nelson Boyd, Lyle Anthony Leduff, Myrna Lynne Brown, Ruben Lemont Bailey, Symere Woods, Thomas Decarlo Callaway