Brr Cook that shit up, Quay Brr, lean, blah, lean, blah This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich Yeah, hop out that new Maybach like I come from paper (That's my fam, bitch) You been cuffin' bitches, you a super-saver (Superhero) My lil' boy already rich, he got my future paper (Checks signed) We just parked the Wraith inside the elevator (Elevator) Tootsies on Tuesday, in the private room making a movie I got some vibes with me getting groovy We at the top floor in a jacuzzi Ridin' with some hot boys like I'm Juvie I'm on that dumb shit like I'm Gucci I just spent twenty-six thousand in Gucci Go ask about me, this shit ain't no new shit I was gettin' money before it was music I don't drink, I don't sip, I abuse it I did what I did, got 'em clueless Think these Adderalls got me all loose Got your bitch on my drip, she been choosin' She been checkin' me out, I been movin' (Yeah) So much money, it's getting confusin' (Yeah) Only winnin', This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich Show me that pussy cat 'cause El Gato got a cat wrist Shooter got that rocket on him, call him James Harden We be straight ballin', wet T-shirt contest Top off, call us up, the coupe color Sunkist I be going hard on 'em, I'm on that Lil Pump shit I don't even know how my money got so retarded Trap God Gucci sandals on like I was Jesus Bitch fine as Kim K, and these are not Yeezy's This dope'll make you do the Kanye, took so many opiates The mall ain't even open yet, but Gucci made 'em open it Dr. Trapenstein, and I just prescribed a Percocet She ain't even fine enough, so I don't even wanna hit Fishtailin' out of Tootsies, bag full of hundreds And I told the dealer he can keep the talk 'cause I don't want it Think my house is haunted, woke up seein' a dyin' bitch Gucci on that don shit, so wealthy that my son rich Wizzop (Hah) Lil Baby