[Intro: Payroll]
Yuh
B Mills, what up though?
BYLUG
4-1
[Verse 1: Payroll]
Started out dime-stashin’, now I’m into high fashion (Yuh)
Ridin’ past in S-Classes, when I walk, my neck clashin’ (Yeah)
Chains hittin’ other chains, every day, I’m duckin’ lames
Braggin’ ‘bout that petty shit, boy, I’m in another lane
Crib with electric gates, coupes with the paper plates
Scrape and shake in place, help a nigga get his paper straight
Pocket-watchers tryna calculate what I make a day
‘Cause I been wearin’ rose gold since Miskeen and Bathing Ape
Pointers in the cross when I’m sayin’ grace, amen
Outfit almost eight bands, your bitch told me to make plans (Bitch)
Told me meet her at the Black party, bitch, I’m way in France
Sippin’ on tea with Louis gloves warmin’ up on my hands (Yuh)
Obviously, I ain’t your man, he a pill-poppin
Nappy-head, tacky motherfucker, I’m a smooth hustler (Ha)
I drink Dom P and wear snug tees that smell like Creed
And flood neighborhoods anytime I’m sellin’ weed
[Chorus: HBK]
My confession is I’m ballin’ on ‘em like it’s my possession
Never restin’, only time I sit – I’m countin’ at the Westin
They can’t fuck with me, my competition is my reflection
My confession is I got a bad Louis Vuitton obsession
My confession: I can’t help but to buy some shit that I like
Go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
My confession: I had your bitch suckin’ me all night
Went to sleep in D&G and then woke up in Off-White
My confession
Yuh
B Mills, what up though?
BYLUG
4-1
[Verse 1: Payroll]
Started out dime-stashin’, now I’m into high fashion (Yuh)
Ridin’ past in S-Classes, when I walk, my neck clashin’ (Yeah)
Chains hittin’ other chains, every day, I’m duckin’ lames
Braggin’ ‘bout that petty shit, boy, I’m in another lane
Crib with electric gates, coupes with the paper plates
Scrape and shake in place, help a nigga get his paper straight
Pocket-watchers tryna calculate what I make a day
‘Cause I been wearin’ rose gold since Miskeen and Bathing Ape
Pointers in the cross when I’m sayin’ grace, amen
Outfit almost eight bands, your bitch told me to make plans (Bitch)
Told me meet her at the Black party, bitch, I’m way in France
Sippin’ on tea with Louis gloves warmin’ up on my hands (Yuh)
Obviously, I ain’t your man, he a pill-poppin
Nappy-head, tacky motherfucker, I’m a smooth hustler (Ha)
I drink Dom P and wear snug tees that smell like Creed
And flood neighborhoods anytime I’m sellin’ weed
[Chorus: HBK]
My confession is I’m ballin’ on ‘em like it’s my possession
Never restin’, only time I sit – I’m countin’ at the Westin
They can’t fuck with me, my competition is my reflection
My confession is I got a bad Louis Vuitton obsession
My confession: I can’t help but to buy some shit that I like
Go to sleep, dream about diamonds, wake up and buy some ice
My confession: I had your bitch suckin’ me all night
Went to sleep in D&G and then woke up in Off-White
My confession
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