Isabel Marant
(Rocket Boy)
Yeah, I'm on they ass, yeah (yeah)
Hop up out that couch and roll up latto out the bank (bank, let's go)
I don't need a stylist, they can't fuck with Coi Leray (yeah, yeah)
Tried to count me out, and now I'm big as Trippie Redd (yeah)
Red, Red (whoo!)
I hope I don't crash (yeah, crash)
Scrapin' up the rim up on that sidewalk, ride it fast (let's go)
I can't wait to pour up and cook up, up in that lab
This that brand-new ring, Denim Tears, LV tags
This that brand-new ring, Denim Tears, LV tags (yeah)
I don't know nothin', no time for these bitches I don't know (yeah)
Just Prada bag, I'ma prop these Tiffanys, Nike, step right on these bozos (yeah)
Got a undercover vest, cost me 'bout three racks, and they don't know (yeah)
YSL drip on they jet, they fly me direct and put me in front row
Ooh, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, my diamonds big like a wrestler (like a wrestler, yeah)
I put Forgiato on my ten slow (oh-oh-oh)
We can go to sleep in Margiela (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I got that - on my dresser (uh, yeah)
Bitch, I'm really rich, got my check-up (and, I'm rich, and I'm - and I'm -)
Yeah, my socks is Kapital (yeah)
Walk in Christian Dior with Kenzo lows, red carpet, I'm casual
Isabel Marant in Paris (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Yeah, I'm on they ass, yeah (yeah)
Hop up out that couch and roll up latto out the bank (bank, let's go)
I don't need a stylist, they can't fuck with Coi Leray (yeah, yeah)
Tried to count me out, and now I'm big as Trippie Redd (yeah)
Red, Red (whoo!)
I hope I don't crash (yeah, crash)
Scrapin' up the rim up on that sidewalk, ride it fast (let's go)
I can't wait to pour up and cook up, up in that lab
This that brand-new ring, Denim Tears, LV tags
This that brand-new ring, Denim Tears, LV tags (yeah)
I don't know nothin', no time for these bitches I don't know (yeah)
Just Prada bag, I'ma prop these Tiffanys, Nike, step right on these bozos (yeah)
Got a undercover vest, cost me 'bout three racks, and they don't know (yeah)
YSL drip on they jet, they fly me direct and put me in front row
Ooh, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, my diamonds big like a wrestler (like a wrestler, yeah)
I put Forgiato on my ten slow (oh-oh-oh)
We can go to sleep in Margiela (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I got that - on my dresser (uh, yeah)
Bitch, I'm really rich, got my check-up (and, I'm rich, and I'm - and I'm -)
Yeah, my socks is Kapital (yeah)
Walk in Christian Dior with Kenzo lows, red carpet, I'm casual
Isabel Marant in Paris (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Credits
Writer(s): Coi Leray Leray
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.