Hey Miss Parker
Wait, wait, wait, wait
Somethin like (Uh-oh)
I just cut some fresh lemons, where's the sugar?
Lemon in my ade, lemon in my ears, call em boogers
Rather six feet fore I'm ever seen with you niggas (hold up)
Yeah
What it is? It's that nigga T, skin look colored in (woo)
Ridin in double-double R, that's that Cullinan (yeah)
Pullin in that four hundred gram, I just bought a disc (yeah)
Switzerland, Lake Geneva where I spend my summer in (true story)
Golf le Fleur, that's Gianno shoe, what I'm runnin in
Earlobe look like headlights on a new van (Gangsta Grillz)
I'm so motherfuckin dead-ass, I need some Timberlands (woo)
I battle any man, Uzi Vert, don't think they understand (yeah, yeah)
Uh (skrrt, cool), double C on my feet
Double G on my freak (ooh), Louis V by my brick
She wan kick it with me, she better eat it then leave (leave, whoa)
She try save bout the place but keep eatin my meat
We can't see none of em, bro, she keep eatin my seeds (woo)
Got a E and a B on the back of the CT
I'm done with the 12, got a V16 (uh)
Say the money comin in, yeah, that's true
The more money I get, I don't wan sex you
Can't think about the last time that I text you
It's probably once I kicks out them belt loops
Sign my John Hancock on a bitch every time I check you
Just like a brand new Lamb', I wreck you, uh
So if this mind is yours (Woo, woo, woo)
Ride to the dinner tapin
Outta time and imagine her in the exit
Last year more than what Google say my net is
I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit (like, whoa)
Yeah, uh, uh, uh, whoa
It's the double P, I rock double C
Man, I run them beats like you run in cleats
Man, come to me, you want somethin to see
This internally flawed, that's a double Vs
What troubles me is you couple me
With these subtle fleas tryna double league
Hornet trapped in the hive of a motherfuckin bumblebee
They just got the closest picture of the fuckin Sun surface, that was us
Got the LaFerrari, park that bitch just for one purpose, catchin dust
My Secret Service carry mops, you call em street sweepers, back you up
Tat you up then add you up, then give you a cover like adieu
If the shit's fake, I don't respect it, it's clickbait
And that's distaste like a shit shake
What a difference your wrist make when it's Richard-made
Hungry eyes tend to fixate like a empty stomach for a fish plate
Shit-faced, get this straight, this is truck wheels that grip tape
Ride to the dinner tapin
Outta time and imagine her in the exit (why you even talkin to us?)
Last year more than what Google say my net is
I got chatter with the chef in the tinted exit (goddamn)
Uh, uh, uh
