Lyrics:
bands, ten bands (ten bands) Drop the babies in the car seat, pass me the Courvoisier Tap on your boussie, valeting Cartier Car keys to the Marcielago
(noo!) I picked up a bad bitch in a Marcielago (noo!) I got cribs better year estates man (man) I'm in L.A. with Atlanta plates fam (fam) Still
(noo!) I picked up a bad bitch in a Marcielago (noo!) I got cribs better year estates man (man) I'm in L.A. with Atlanta plates fam (fam) Still
Buckets full of gold bottles Silk Versace Venice shit Medusa heads with the gold goggles Rose-gold Marcielago they wacked Escobar Welcome Home, Chapo
see a cop then I'm Begging him to shoot me Ivory bag in my Marcielago Heart is frozen, cold like Chicago Feds on my tail, follow me everywhere I go
the farther I go, the more i upset em Marcielago on the way to the lake Far as i know, that whole day could be fake I wonder what you really wanna say to my
you be wilding out Might hop up in that Royce or I'll try that Marcielago out Back then ain't have a choice now I'm dripping I've been shining now I've
Begging God for mercy in the blood red Marcielago Just broke up with my chick cause she fucking niggas that I know And I'm like, ah well, I guess I'm
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