Chrome-hearted like the Six Million Dollar Man
She tell me that physical touch is her love language but the dashboard hologram
Ran up a check like Demarco in 2014, you would think a nigga on the lam
The Takamori A5 with the tallow attachment, you cannot find this shit in Sam's
Sit in the sand, flip through the dossier, highlight the sections that deal with havarti
You ever see me inside of the function you know I got paid to pull up to the party
Niggas impostors like Janet and Marty, faking the funk, Dumile face on my Dunks
Trap love to boom and to bunk, the money improving my posture, I no longer slump
Louboutin bottoms like chum
They tryna step like the boy but they don't got the guts
The Aquanaut came with impeccable cuts
I stare at the currents when I'm in a rut
I copy their motion, I copy their flux
The bezel got cinnamon crust
The homie passed out in the middle of a session, he poured up a lil too much Wock in the Crush
Monolith Pradas I walk in the slush, based on my data no risk of me slipping
Lead an armada, I'm not the one whipping, the Miami breeze distending the sails
Eric just threw some exclusive on scale, the marbling mixing the dark with the pale
Givenchy loafers are coated in Braille
Can't see where I got em, can't get em retail, they not on no Grailed
They sit on the pedal of a Chevy Chevelle that's older than me
Took a lil trip to Siberia, crazy I couldn't find no niggas colder than me
Fanny pack full of slaveholder deceased
My bread started rising, my hustle the yeast
Now when the plug send me fresh mangalica the only time I'm in the belly of beast
Always two plays on my celly at least, I get to the racks and my jelly elite
Spend so much time in meetings bout money, it's hella cold cuts in my deli Philippe
Cerulean skin on the brand new nightcrawler, it slide down the block making barely a peep
Red Marni sweater like Gossamer, don't know the price but the shit on me rarely is cheap
I took a leap, still haven't landed
Forgot the feel of the granite
The Forgiatos are slanted, to alter em I need a special mechanic
Couple of Cubans in transit, the agents at border think I bought ceramics
Go anywhere for the uchies, I never relied on the home-court advantage
I keep a Burberry vantage, these diamonds do ocular damage
Slide with my shorty to Asador Bastian for dinner, we came in a black and we leave in a sprinter
Right back to business, I'm something like winter, a chill hit the studio soon as I enter
Can't even play my shit back on the speakers, the 808s make all the icicles splinter
