[Intro]
(Perfect 10)
[Chorus: Valee]
We be countin' up all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad bitch, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night, on my off-night
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Yeah, run up, it's gon' look like an off light)
[Verse 1: Valee]
Shit gettin' dim, four iPhones, ain't no SIMs
Eighty-five hundred on rims, my spot look like the Sims, yeah (Like the Sims)
Gucci gram costs lots of loot
I get mouth while I got your boo
I blow exotic out the roof
Louis pants, they match the coupe
You the type to go in store, ask what's the best they could do, that's what I don't do
All this shit no favor, ain't no IOU
And I keep a stick, it won't be me, it's gon' be Y-O-U
You mad 'cause the David Yurman on my bitch, not on you
All that exotic a flower force, I'm at Fontainebleau, bitch new
Boy, that lean was fake, all he heard was, "I'm good"
Better not get to close to me in traffic, I pop your hood
Bitch gon' get too wet for me, a napkin won't do no good
I'm not worried 'bout nothin' ain't gon' happen when in your hood
Four-door sedan sittin' in sand, need to be washed by hand
Bitch want bags look better than Birkins, gotta be made by hand, yeah
(Perfect 10)
[Chorus: Valee]
We be countin' up all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad bitch, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night, on my off-night
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Yeah, run up, it's gon' look like an off light)
[Verse 1: Valee]
Shit gettin' dim, four iPhones, ain't no SIMs
Eighty-five hundred on rims, my spot look like the Sims, yeah (Like the Sims)
Gucci gram costs lots of loot
I get mouth while I got your boo
I blow exotic out the roof
Louis pants, they match the coupe
You the type to go in store, ask what's the best they could do, that's what I don't do
All this shit no favor, ain't no IOU
And I keep a stick, it won't be me, it's gon' be Y-O-U
You mad 'cause the David Yurman on my bitch, not on you
All that exotic a flower force, I'm at Fontainebleau, bitch new
Boy, that lean was fake, all he heard was, "I'm good"
Better not get to close to me in traffic, I pop your hood
Bitch gon' get too wet for me, a napkin won't do no good
I'm not worried 'bout nothin' ain't gon' happen when in your hood
Four-door sedan sittin' in sand, need to be washed by hand
Bitch want bags look better than Birkins, gotta be made by hand, yeah
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