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Lyrics

This go with 'em triple golds and Vogues that tippie toe
Trunk lips that pucker up, they kiss no mistletoe
I flexed the dash, fish bowled the glass, headrest the screen
Block out the sun, tint ten percent, high beam my beams

Hakeem my dream, takin' off like a rocket
Peep those petty perpetrators always pickin' for pockets
Played it patient, went from paper plates to paper deposits
Now we prayin' our people profit 'cause they see how we poppin'

Lyrics continue below...

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Orville Redenbacher, keep a titty knocker and a pussy popper
Politickin' with my player partners over shrimp and lobster
MasterChef'in', watch me feed the family, bitch, I'm Gordon Ramsay
Sear the salmon, put the lemon squeeze, that's far from Manwich

Recipe for the best of G, was the best on this side
Michelin Star and tuna tartare, bitch, it's best you keep out
Of this kitchen, 'member when there was no pot to piss in
Now we like who sayin' South too plain, elevated, Soulja Boy, nigga we made it

Out the trenches, back when all of my britches had muddy water in 'em
Now I call the stylist from the island to go and cop the denim
Now the old school pull up like baby hairs on yo' shawty temple
Made rocket science out of flyin', that shit super simple

Get the bag, buy the tag and pull up on swangs (swangs)
Finish yo' drank, devil the pot and get on the plane
Hid in the car, shake up the stars and cut up the bang (bang)
Fuck with a chick that'll suck on the dick and don't care 'bout a stain

Gotta blot that shit, talkin' coke and bakin' soda how I had to lock that shit
Thanos couldn't stop that shit
Even if he snappin', bitch there ain't a multiverse out 'chea that I ain't slabbin'
Actin' bad and on the ave and godly flow and titans clashin'

Supersedin' all the Maddens, couldn't touch down better
I'm fuckin' off in real time, you down bad in the Meta
You so-called ballin' all year, ain't no games played on yo' schedule
I'm gettin' top by two bops, I'm all for double headers, that's a win-win

Been king since most of y'all was in high chairs talkin' din-din
I chill with my dawgs more than The Adventures of Tintin
There ain't a corner from here to the moon that I can't bend-bend
This here God giftin', nah, you can't blend in

Writer(s): Justin Lewis Scott

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