Tru to U Yeat

[Intro]
Yeah, this a record label
Bitch not for me, she got that Pac-sun
No that shit all night, for me, she got a rack or sumn'
Pockets the size of a building, all this drip on me no Pac-a-sun

[Chorus]
You don't have a lil' SRT, don't have a Hellcat, you lyin'
I don't even gotta do shit, I just wake up and get bread without tryin'
That's your old bitch, she said that she love me now, so we up in the Cayenne
Finna go change my name to "Private Jet" 'cause of how much I'm high flying
You can't say I won't go up, 'cause I'ma die tryin'
Got a brand new four-door Rolls-Royce Cullinan truck how I'm driving
Yeah, and that bitch gon' bounce on this dick like I got me hydraulics (Yuh)
I got the racks at the bottom myself, then I bought that gat again (Again)
Think I'm falling in love again (Yuh)
With Benjamin Franklin, I'm sorry, ma'am
All this water that sit on me, collect like Hoover Dam (Yuh)
In the strip club, no Madagascar, I like the way that she move it, yeah (Like she move it)
Yeah, I gotta get it no option (Yuh), can you stop talking?
Why you on my phone every day, every night? This shit is too exhausting
So Much Fun like Thug said, no syrup and no Oxy, yeah, so awesome
Tired of these dudes serving them dogs all day
And my fingers blue, took a long time to get this way
Ain't nothin' like me, ain't high as me
Ain't nothin' like me, ain't high as me
Yeah, I been through so much, don't nothin' surprise me (Nothin')
I had the diamonds all on myself so they see what I see (See)