Colors

Raf Simons cost me five slips

That Goyard bag, another fire strip

You in Detroit and see a Wraith, ****, that's my shit

Woulda pushed Rico's shit back, I am not Mitch

Gettin' money while these **** gettin' mad

Jump off the plane with a couple M's in the bag

If anybody play with me, it's numbers on they head

We ain't gon' talk about it though, that's the end of that

Trappin', I'm still into that, address, I could send you that

So if my label drop me, I can still look like I rap

Know a couple **** livin' like they got platinum plaques

All they doin' is catchin' bags, sendin' out and sittin' back

Rose Presi on my wrist, I can afford that

Back in the day, I couldn't even look toward that

When I was broke, I couldn't even look toward the bitch

Now she suck my dick and don't say shit when I record the bitch

Been on the indictment list, tryna see the Forbes list

Went from playin' with joysticks to out in traffic blowin' sticks

When your fans get your name tatted, then you know you lit

Stank from my cologne, and I'ma fuck her if she snort the drip

Promised my brother I'ma stack and get this paper right

But I'm spendin' 60K a month just on everyday life

When you got that bag, everybody wanna whirl it

Problems they got, they gon' call you like you caused 'em

Fall up in the club, I can rain till it's morning

Start in every game, 'cause at practice, I've been ballin'

Heard a couple **** wanna put me on my shit (What?)

Tell 'em, "Pull up with them sticks and let 'em hit, you better not miss, bitch!"

I know some Crips, know some Treetops

Name good, I ain't ever sold no re-rock

All these colors in my chain like a peacock

I'l let that forty slam till it de-cock

Ridin' through my old hood with some new money

Blue money, they that mad, tell 'em, "Do somethin'!"

Got three Tennis chains and like two Presis

Three choppers, four Glocks, this shit too heavy

Key to the pad, key to the Rolls, key to the bag

I got the key to the streets, don't get a key put on yo' ass

When I do that, you know them **** gon' knock you in half

Heavy cash load, got my back broke

Bitches on the East and on the West Coast

Sent me pics and videos, you can't get my passcode

Stand up in the motor, got the hood broke

Bitch, don't get yo' head painted, you gon' look like Lil' Boat!

Ridin' through Atlanta with my **** Lil' Boat

**** trailin' us, and you know what they good for

'Bout to fly to Cali and look for that good dope

If you bought that light, then what you lookin' shit for?

Told my lil' bro I had to chase M's

Forty on me, all big faced bills

In the back of the Mulsanne lettin' the space build

If the police flip me with this Glock, I'ma face ten

I ain't supposed to be the shooter, I'm on top

But I'll still let it spray like it's four days into July

I be runnin' red lights in my city, I know it's hot

I'd rather take that ticket, **** want my top

It's so many opps

I know some Crips, know some Treetops

Name good, I ain't ever sold no re-rock

All these colors in my chain like a peacock

I'll let that forty slam till it de-cock

Know some BD's, I know some gangsters

Get outta line, and they'll spank you

Know some Pirus, know some head bangers

Know some sex, money, murder **** that'll paint ya