Freestyle in Ferragamo

Griselda

My lil' nigga 15 with the choppa on him
Face got the Valentino stacking on it
SKS with the tripod
Bitches calling me the FLYGOD
I got the baddest bitches sucking dick
And eating pussy, bulletproof beneath the Stussy
H&M Alexander Wang flow
I thank the Lord for dealing blow
Cop my mother every color Range Rover
The Balmain sofa
My worst shit better than your favorite rapper
Your favorite trapper favorite trapper
This shit so fucking effortless
You shoot, you better hit it, get your melon split
The Heckler in your mouth like a breath mint
I wanna be rich forever, And ever, and ever
I'm 'bout to get my shit together
No more stormy weather
Chainsmoking this Headband
Step on these Giuseppes you a dead man
Fuck (Hahahahahaha)
I'm just fucking playing
The AK spraying (Brrt)
Your mom dukes decayin
Playing with me, nigga, I don't play fair
The Yeezys 3 rack a pair

Yo, White, why you ain't gimme the moo-wop, man?
You can't shoot worth nothing
Yo, I had to kill? man!
Yo, turn the car around, gimme the moo-wop
Face up, bro, you wack, can't shoot, what?

What Sosa told Tony, can't say in front my grandmother
Come through in the meekest, whitest
Lethal white Beamer like I'm Money Mitch
Puff & Big in '96, Benzes green as some double mint
Rolling trips, money on the pavement, oh, we scraping
I am not for complications, contemplations, need my cash in full
Every rapper on my radar to a cover fader
Vader with the saber, denim looking like they cut by Vagel
Raising in the durag, undercover raincoat
Undercover long sleeve underneath the Wang, hoe
Them G.O. baskets black as caskets, boy, I'm fresh to death
From pissy hallways, they made millions off that second step
Now we mix the Ferragamo with the Fear of God
Taking selfies in Celine shades 'fore we face the odds
A hundred middle fingers to them squad cars
Ronnie Fieg, Asics all gold just like a gold card
But this ain't Yu-Gi-Oh!, my style is Azel? Sushio?
Turn your sister to a model, give your girl a movie role
Every time I park my car, say "motherfuck the meter"
Off-White, off the leader, I can fuck her where I meet her
I'm Derek Jeter, El Capitán
Fuck your caption, bitch, my ass remained by rag and bone
Y'all need some styling on, that's where my niggas stalling on
Man, half you fucking stylish, you can't style at all
When I was 15, I used to go and share jeans
23, I'll spend a band on McQueen tees
Just because the stitches right, work behind the wires
Hit a base, if you listen right, go and get your chicken right
Hundred if your kitchen right, stress that bitch
110, if you whipping right, go and get your business right
Boy, this just the gift of life

Griselda, by Fashion Rebels



Credits
Writer(s): Unknown Writer, Alvin Lamar Worthy, Amber Joy Croskery
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link