[Intro]
Dis type of shit happens every day
All dem I'm under mourn for people pon stay
But none of dem have the guts to pull out and spray
None of them have the guts to pull out and spray
(Young Chop on the beat)
[Chorus: Travis Scott]
I-I-I-I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh, yeah), to my flocka (Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Uh, uh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1: Travis Scott]
I'm that Ferragamo Hussein, Tom Cruisin', Rock Of Ages
Semi-god estate, gettin' cake, could've thought I'm Jewish (Yeah)
Fuck, fuck, fuck, might lose your soul for my language
Nowadays's, niggas been at round tables talkin' all that heinous language (Yeah)
Plutonica, insomnia
Put that money on your head, Balenciaga yarmulke (Yeah)
Fifteen when I carried loads of them Ozium's
And them bag of nicks, I mean, groceries
I mean, daddy knows ain't no controllin' me (Yeah, ye-yeah)
My bad, look Scotty might sag
She give me head before the ass and never let no nigga smash
No puffin', no pass (Yeah)
We breakin' if we can get half, thank you for makin' it last (Ye-yeah)
Get everything that you got
Break me a piece of that off, rest in peace, niggas I lost
Dis type of shit happens every day
All dem I'm under mourn for people pon stay
But none of dem have the guts to pull out and spray
None of them have the guts to pull out and spray
(Young Chop on the beat)
[Chorus: Travis Scott]
I-I-I-I got diamonds on my blocka, serve it to my flocka
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh, yeah), to my flocka (Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Pray to Lord on my shotta, she be proper (Uh, uh)
Yeah, that's my flocka (Ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah, ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah)
[Verse 1: Travis Scott]
I'm that Ferragamo Hussein, Tom Cruisin', Rock Of Ages
Semi-god estate, gettin' cake, could've thought I'm Jewish (Yeah)
Fuck, fuck, fuck, might lose your soul for my language
Nowadays's, niggas been at round tables talkin' all that heinous language (Yeah)
Plutonica, insomnia
Put that money on your head, Balenciaga yarmulke (Yeah)
Fifteen when I carried loads of them Ozium's
And them bag of nicks, I mean, groceries
I mean, daddy knows ain't no controllin' me (Yeah, ye-yeah)
My bad, look Scotty might sag
She give me head before the ass and never let no nigga smash
No puffin', no pass (Yeah)
We breakin' if we can get half, thank you for makin' it last (Ye-yeah)
Get everything that you got
Break me a piece of that off, rest in peace, niggas I lost
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