Tell Me

While you were tip toe’in your Jordan’s
I was moonwalking in my louie’s
But that ain’t really new G
Tell me why ya girl a groupie
Cuz she knows bumpin lil pump
The closest thing you’ll get to Gucci
Don’t pretend that you’re immortal
We both know ya girl is here
Tryna find her shoes and her morals
Stackin paper getting normal (Aye)
Tell me why it’s getting normal

These are million-dollar dreams of a money Fiene
Waves too wavy need some Dramamine
Wake up put in work that’s my whole routine
Extendo tees with the ripped faded jogger jeans
Talladega nights when I’m crusin in the whip
Rick had flair, but the culture really made it drip
Stuffin cashin in the fanny pack on my hip
Lost a handle on my bars need a better grip
Didn’t do it on my own squad put me on
So I had make sure were upper echelon
First stack going towards new saint Laurent
Blue Oberkampf boots is the only thing I want
Got my city on my back like a backpack
Done with the days of nikes in a knapsack
New wave tryna make the whip matte black
Phone ringin all my exes tryna backtrack

Nah and I can’t have that and I can’t have that
Praying that racks fat

I gotta have that
I gotta have that
I gotta have that