Party wit Pop Smoke feat. Keisha Plum

歌詞

Ayo, you couldn't keep score, Patek Phillipe wars (Ah) My niggas stare at Rugers, Gucci bit off Iceberg shit, I still copped the Mickey Pissy elevators, hand in hand, I wore Issey, Lord, forgive me Fashion Week, I gave 'em headstarts to Mississippi (Brr, brr, brr) Submachine guns, somebody fucked him, brains hangin' off the frame Blood on the Salvatore Mundi, we rock cocaine (Ah) Tie-dye Dior floss, stickin' niggas up at Christie's Eugene Delacroixs for half price, leather strings and Rickys Ain't no eye for eye, you take an eye, we take your whole head (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Shoppin' sprees at galleries, Lafayette, come here let's hold hands Baggin' at the Mandarin, they can't take the drip, Balenciaga mannequin Pots dancin' with the grams of fish, whip game scandalous (Ah) My heart got a thousand shadows on it His brain had a lead hollow in it Bloodbaths under the moonlight Spill his guts when the time is right Valentino for his favorite whore, homicidal couture Vintage Mizrahi in the streets of Paris Violence lingers inside me Extortion fills my bon appetit Hog tie him, make him watch a nigga nut in his wife He started to cry I kissed his cheek, then drove the icepick in his eye And one call will have a girl scout on your granddaddy's porch Cause of death is heart attack on the coroner's report If he got a felony, it's guaranteed to excite me Gun and drug charges give me butterflies Evil as Satan, but I see God all in his eyes Ayo, it's Westside Pootie And my Lamborghini got a backseat, and y'all drive rentals In other words, get your weight up Y'all still broke Oh yeah, and stop copyin' off my daddy, too It's Griselda Griselda