PERSONA
(Let's go, Mario)
Wooooo, hey
Huh, put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
I do this shit wit' no motherfuckin' cap and no gown
I deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner? (Woo)
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just in case you was wonderin', huh, hey
Can you hear me right now?
Talkin' my shit, I ain't stutterin', ayy
Last night was crazy as fuck
But I woke up today and lil' bitch, I'm recoverin'
I'm in the hills, the Hollywood Hills
I'm on the top floor wit' the government
She call me Daij, I don't know her name
So how the fuck she know my government?
I'm in the blitz
I get high as fuck, when I get out in the mix
I go so bougie, I stay at the Ritz
And there's so many hoes, I don't know what to pick
I told lil' bro, "Let me know when to switch"
I landed on Venus, no higher than this
I got a problem, it's hard to admit
And I swear to the Lord, puttin' God in the mix (Yeah, ooh)
Took the ceilin' right off
I'm up in the sky and I'm hoverin', huh, ayy
Watch who you callin' ya brothers
Stabbed me in my back with a cutter, man, ayy
Hoppin' right out of the Lambo'
Then hoppin' right back in the Cullinan, ayy
And bitch I'm the Don of all Don, I'm really admittin', no other me
Put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
She give me brain, it's so motherfuckin' good
Swear to God, she deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner?
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just in case you was wonderin', huh, hey
No Skilla Baby, got skills, me and my niggas be dumpin', for real
I rock Marc Jacobs for fun
It's twenty-five hundred Rick Owens, for real
Twenty-five hundred ain't nothin'
I just dropped another five hundred, for real
Can you geek up off of a pill?
I just wanna know what the fuck is the deal is
I'm in Atlanta, for real, not for a lot, just only a little bit
I pop a pick and I'm feelin' that ho
I don't know if this lil' bitch can feel it
Ayy, she be wit' all of them rappers
I'm fuckin' that ho then I'm passin' her after
I treat this ho like she really don't matter
She just for the gang, she not a real factor
Put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
She give me brain, it's so motherfuckin' good
Swear to God, she deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner?
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just incase you was wonderin'
Ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Wooooo, hey
Huh, put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
I do this shit wit' no motherfuckin' cap and no gown
I deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner? (Woo)
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just in case you was wonderin', huh, hey
Can you hear me right now?
Talkin' my shit, I ain't stutterin', ayy
Last night was crazy as fuck
But I woke up today and lil' bitch, I'm recoverin'
I'm in the hills, the Hollywood Hills
I'm on the top floor wit' the government
She call me Daij, I don't know her name
So how the fuck she know my government?
I'm in the blitz
I get high as fuck, when I get out in the mix
I go so bougie, I stay at the Ritz
And there's so many hoes, I don't know what to pick
I told lil' bro, "Let me know when to switch"
I landed on Venus, no higher than this
I got a problem, it's hard to admit
And I swear to the Lord, puttin' God in the mix (Yeah, ooh)
Took the ceilin' right off
I'm up in the sky and I'm hoverin', huh, ayy
Watch who you callin' ya brothers
Stabbed me in my back with a cutter, man, ayy
Hoppin' right out of the Lambo'
Then hoppin' right back in the Cullinan, ayy
And bitch I'm the Don of all Don, I'm really admittin', no other me
Put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
She give me brain, it's so motherfuckin' good
Swear to God, she deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner?
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just in case you was wonderin', huh, hey
No Skilla Baby, got skills, me and my niggas be dumpin', for real
I rock Marc Jacobs for fun
It's twenty-five hundred Rick Owens, for real
Twenty-five hundred ain't nothin'
I just dropped another five hundred, for real
Can you geek up off of a pill?
I just wanna know what the fuck is the deal is
I'm in Atlanta, for real, not for a lot, just only a little bit
I pop a pick and I'm feelin' that ho
I don't know if this lil' bitch can feel it
Ayy, she be wit' all of them rappers
I'm fuckin' that ho then I'm passin' her after
I treat this ho like she really don't matter
She just for the gang, she not a real factor
Put on Raf and I switch my persona
Smokin' za, you can smell the aroma
Give me head in the back of the Hummer, ayy
She give me brain, it's so motherfuckin' good
Swear to God, she deserve a diploma, ayy
If you catch me outside, then I'm rockin' Margiela
I'm high as a bitch every summer
I was fuckin' Shyanne, now she blockin' my number
Smokin' three-five, I might take her right under
I need some backwoods, where the fuck is the runner?
'Cause I'm shootin' my shot, I don't need me a jumper
Hop out the jet and go back to the bunker
I'm doin' okay just incase you was wonderin'
Ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh
Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Demario Priester, Daijon Davis
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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