Touchdown lyrics

[Intro: Yeat]
(We just landed in NY, we just poppin' tags all day, coppin' swag all day)
(Swiz need to pipe down)
(Poppin' X all day)

[Verse: Yeat and Lunchbox]
I really just touched down, b*tch
And I spent ten bands on Margiela (Yeah)
b*tch, watch your step when you hop out the jet
We just landed in NY, flew out from 'Ella (Yeah)
I put a few in a duffel bag for the plane, in the bookbag, take it wherever
Told 'em I'm moving the Za' every way, I ain't talk to no jake, but I call up my dealer
Yeah, called up my twin (Yeah), call my twizzy
Called up my b*tch, like "What ya' talk 'bout?", call my bizzy (Brrt)
The world learned the slang (Slang), b*tches love the slang (Yeah)
Yeah, these b*tches love to swing doors (Doors)
Open twenty-four seven the sign, it sit on top of her brain (Go)
Yeah, I got these diamonds, they came Eliantte (Yeah), Cuban link, feel like I live in the rain (Agh)
We got every [?] like it's a rink (Phew)
I done got every rack I coulda made (Yeah)
Yeah, this not a AirBnb, this a mansion, I let these b*tches pull up, they get slayed (Phew)

[Verse: Lunchbox]
These b*tches pull up to get slayed (Slayed)
These b*tches pull up to get slayed (Slayed)
My new b*tch just want the arrogant [?]
My cup is some Wock', just know hella syrup
Back to New York, I was just in LA
Got straight to them racks, cause I don't even play
And these n*ggas they act, but we really don't play
I just ran up the racks, that's the start of my day (My day)
We got that chop for that boy if he runnin' up (Yeah)
Broke little man, n*gga, go get your hunnids up
When she suck the di*k, she need some money from (Yeah)
Can't suck di*k, then you can't get a honeybun
Smoke a lot, this sh*t got me dummy-dumb (Yeah)
She don't f*ck me 'til we bring out dummy guns
Choppa Homi, just like a Kid Cudi show (Yeah)
So many racks, I might get me a tummy tuck
[Outro: Lunchbox]
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah)
(Yeah)