Mr. Put That Shit On

You bums ain't fresh like me, boy

You **** need a stylist

Gucci, Vlone, I put that shit on, yeah

Chrome Hearts, Bottega, I put it on, yeah

Tennis chains, VVS, this neck froze, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

Off White, 350s, I put it on, yeah

Louis Vs, Ambodi, I put it on, yeah

Richard Mille, Bon Bon, Rick Owens, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

Salvatore Ferragamo

The restoration hardware inside the George Condo

It cost a G for this plaided Burberry poncho

Amiri, Yves Saint Laurent coat, side note

Must be on heroin thinking they don't fear the God flow

Virgil Abloh, wasn't rocking no Aeropostale

Nigo, Kenzo model

Phoebe I don't follow

I wear Ricardo, got Tisci inside my cargo

Fendi button down, they thought I was Pablo in Narcos

I call my girl like I bought some Dior Homme

And she thought I really bought her some Dior home

Juicy Couture, we got Gucci velour on

Something vintage from Maurizio Gucci divorced holmes

Cartier earth tone, same color her birthstone

Bergdorf furs and they as long as a church song

Plus she dragging a Louis duffle, big ole goofy buckle

She chuckle when people say that we just the cutest couple

And I can tell by your purse game if your **** truly loved you

So many bags, only if you knew the struggle

Still got the ones that she had when she used to fuck you

And she said

Yeah, ****, when I used to fuck you

Well, she want that Birkin, that's gon' cost a few thousand at least

I took homegirl on a shopping spree, she end up styling me

New Bally sneaks, you couldn't walk a mile in these

Rocking arenas before I knew what Balenciaga mean

Bitch I was clean when

I put that shit on, yeah

Chrome Hearts, Bottega, I put it on, yeah

Tennis chains, VVS, this neck froze, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

Off White, 350s, I put it on, yeah

Louis Vs, Ambodi, I put it on, yeah

Richard Mille, Bon Bon, Rick Owens, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

I put that shit on

Yeah, uh, Black Berluti tux

She got a Givenchy gown

Can't fuck with these squares

They just a bunch of clowns

I think it's Rhude, these Stussy's rather I stay underground

So tell Giorgio that we need Armani now

Only wear Thom Browne when I'm in a country town

Neiman's, we shut it down

You seen what happened to Barney's

Prada my women, they know they gotta GoYard me

Went and got her BBL, now she all in BVLGARI

I bathe and ate before I fell in the party

Loewe Marni, brand new Arnauld Bernard piece

The Eremedogeldo Zanga

Shawty, you got Alexander, but he never Vera Wang you

So the next time the met ball is where the Mets ball

Or the Nets are, I'll address y'all in a dress off from the best cloth

Low cholesterol, she even look good with her dress off

Yes God, I'm rocking Tom Ford with the dress socks

Private jets with Mr. West call from the mess hall

I'm having Ted Talks with my legs crossed

I don't wear Crocs, red bottoms for my best broad

The only time you catch me in some Nikes if they deadstock

Otherwise, I don't

Put that shit on, yeah

Chrome Hearts, Bottega, I put it on, yeah

Tennis chains, VVS, this neck froze, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

Off White, 350s, I put it on, yeah

Louis Vs, Ambodi, I put it on, yeah

Richard Mille, Bon Bon, Rick Owens, yeah

I be styling on ****, I put it on, yeah

We say drippin' and drip

But we don't say that shit no more in Atlanta, man, we say shawty got that shit on

Putting that shit on

Yeah, shawty go Gucci to the floor

Yeah, shawty go Louis

Yeah, shawty go back, yeah, he putting that shit on

Yeah, the Maison Margiela of the Moncler, all checkered

Tega Veneta just to offset her, God blesser

Far fetchers, extra small sweater

I'm a Comme Des Garcons wearer, gotta keep my heart tethered

My pallbearers all steppers, ex cartellers

Leave **** laid across stretchers for a small gesture

Who squad fresher? Old heads say I'm a sharp dresser

I'm so for real, I can't even sing in falsetto

The Dolce and Gabbana Marcelo Burloner

Just left Sierra Leone for my future baby momma

Somebody go tell Uncle Ben that I Aunt Jemima

I'm a Yves Saint Laurenter, Balmain persona

And Lanvin made the jeans, shawty, these ain't McQueen

You was in the streets where? Boy, this ain't Supreme

'Cause the way they paint the scene, shawty, this ain't mesquin

Haters hate to see me clean in this suede Celine

Haters hate to see me clean in this suede Celine

Haters hate to see me clean in this suede Celine

Haters hate to see me clean