(Rocket Boy) Yeah, I′m On They Ass, Yeah
(yeah) Hop Up Out That Couch And Roll Up
Latto Out The Bank (bank, Let's Go) I Don′t
Need A Stylist, They Can't Fuck With Coi Leray
(yeah, Yeah) Tried To Count Me Out, And Now
I'm Big As Trippie Redd (yeah) Red, Red
(whoo!) I Hope I Don′t Crash (yeah, Crash) Scrapin′
Up The Rim Up On That Sidewalk, Ride It
Fast (let's Go) I Can′t Wait To Pour Up
And Cook Up, Up In That Lab This That
Brand-new Ring, Denim Tears, LV Tags This That Brand-new
Ring, Denim Tears, LV Tags (yeah) I Don't
Know Nothin′, No Time For These Bitches I Don't
Know (yeah) Just Prada Bag, I′ma Prop These Tiffanys,
Nike, Step Right On These Bozos (yeah) Got A
Undercover Vest, Cost Me 'bout Three Racks, And They
Don't Know (yeah) YSL Drip On They Jet, They
Fly Me Direct And Put Me In Front Row
Ooh, Yeah (yeah) Yeah, My Diamonds Big Like
A Wrestler (like A Wrestler, Yeah) I Put Forgiato
On My Ten Slow (oh-oh-oh) We Can Go To
Sleep In Margiela (yeah, Yeah, Yeah) Bitch, I Got
That - On My Dresser (uh, Yeah) Bitch, I′m
Really Rich, Got My Check-up (and, I′m Rich, And
I'm - And I′m -) Yeah, My Socks Is
Kapital (yeah) Walk In Christian Dior With Kenzo Lows,
Red Carpet, I'm Casual Isabel Marant In Paris (yeah,
Yeah, Yeah)