Billie Eilish lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, what?
Ayy, yeah
Ayy

[Chorus]
I got three iPhones in these Junya-Wan jeans
Tryna marry Billie Eilish, put some diamonds on a ring
You n*ggas be treatin' tricks like everyday is Halloween
Belly Ache, baby girl, I fell in love with the lean
Copycat, ayy, y'all n*ggas really tryna jugg the steez
Pop a flat, Xanny got me six feet under in a dream
Roger that, tryna wife me up a popstar queen
Mix n match, cop designer, ayy, money in my jeans

[Verse 1]
What the f*ck that n*gga need? I told him meet me at the Citgo
Need a Billie Eilish, all white, look like a brick of coke
You out here textin' hoes, I'm gettin neck and havin' sex with hoes
I'm finna sell my soul, but f*ck a Perc, you need a Lexapro
I love prescriptions but I think I need to let 'em go
You did me wrong and, baby, I can never let it go
Ayy, you've a vendetta hoe, I swear that mess is set in stone
Lil b*tch, don't text my phone unless you really tryna get a bone
She say she miss me, Wockhardt in my kidney
Ayy, in love with Billie, tryna wife a real b
They gon' catch a milly and put it on her wrist piece
(They gon' catch a milly and put it on her wrist piece)

[Chorus]
I got three iPhones in these genuine jeans
Tryna marry Billie Eilish, put some diamonds on a ring
You n*ggas be treatin' tricks like everyday is Halloween
Belly Ache, baby girl, I fell in love with the lean
Copycat, ayy, y'all n*ggas really tryna jugg the steez
Pop a flat, Xanny got me six feet under in a dream
Roger that, tryna wife me up a popstar queen
Mix n match, cop designer, ayy, money in my jeans

[Verse 2]
Ayy, don't smile at me, b*tch, don't play around with me b*tch
f*ck around, come loud, chop you down in this b*tch
Servin' pounds, I got pounds, smokin' loud in this b*tch
Hun'ed round, bring you down, blowin' pounds in this b*tch
Set fire to your whip, huh, golden crucifix
Jesus piece around my neck, but I'm a f*ckin' atheist
My b*tch gon' lick up on my di*k, lay it down with some kids
Ride around with a ounce, boy runnin' wit' a stick

[Chorus]
I got three iPhones in these genuine jeans
Tryna marry Billie Eilish, put some diamonds on a ring
You n*ggas be treatin' tricks like everyday is Halloween
Belly Ache, baby girl, I fell in love with the lean
Copycat, ayy, y'all n*ggas really tryna jugg the steez
Pop a flat, Xanny got me six feet under in a dream
Roger that, tryna wife me up a popstar queen
Mix n match, cop designer, ayy, money in my jeans