Designer (Remix) lyrics

[Intro: Blac Youngsta & Lil Pump]
Look at your lil' b*tch ass
Haha (Zay T, hold on)
I, I could see, I could see the motherf*ckin' hate through your motherf*ckin' eyes, boy (yeah, Lil Pump)
Don't wanna look at your ass when I talk to you (huh, yeah)
I know you a hater (yeah, huh, brr)
I could see your whole motherf*ckin' future (yeah, Lil Pump)
I'ma, let me, I'm finna tell you what you gonna be (yeah, huh, brr, yeah)
sh*t (yeah, yeah)
You ain't got sh*t (yeah)
You ain't gon' never have sh*t, you ain't gon' be sh*t
God told me you gon' be sh*t

[Chorus: Lil Pump]
Ayy, I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish b*tches butt naked and they twerkin' on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold

[Verse 1: Lil Pump]
Drive the 'Rari off the lot, f*ck my wrist up with the pot
b*tch, this sh*t will never stop (brr), presidential on the clock
Couple hoes up on a yacht, I can not f*ck with the opps
b*tch, I made it to the top, go to class, I'm on the drop, ayy
Went to the gun store and I bought a rocket (ooh)
One million dollars, cash hangin' out my pocket (damn)
All these diamonds drippin' on me, feelin' like a water faucet
Broke n*ggas hatin' on me, man, this sh*t need to stop it
Lil Pump the freshest n*gga comin' out my city
Hit AOD's and I'm blowin' straight fifties (brr)
In the kitchen whippin' Whitney, sippin' lean, I lost my kidney
Ain't nobody f*ckin' with me off the Xan, I squeeze a titty, ayy
Dropped out of school, hopped in a private jet (brr)
b*tch, I'm on the lean, I can't pop no Percocet (no)
I got more money than your father, you can't be upset
I'm worth a couple millions, b*tch, you know I love to flex
[Chorus: Lil Pump]
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish b*tches butt naked and they twerkin' on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold

[Verse 2: Blac Youngsta]
All that f*ckin' talkin', you gon' make me hop out (hop out)
If you not talkin' money, you gon' make me walk out (walk out)
I talk real guns, I don't bring no prop out (props)
You can't go to war with me and try to cop out (cop)
I run over all my b*tches and they still love me (gang)
I break bread with all my n*ggas, they'll kill for me (grr)
Grandma told me pull my britches up, I'm still thuggin' (grr)
I been crossed, had to cut off some of my real cousins (gang)
All this money I spent on a jet, coulda bought you and you and you (you)
All this money I spent on my neck, coulda sent you and you to school (school)
I got a house bigger than Elvis, got some foreign cars too (too)
Rest in peace Mr. Hugh Hef', I f*ck porn stars too (too)
Ouu

[Bridge: Blac Youngsta]
Gang gang gang, ouu, yeah
Ayy, ayy, ayy, Zaytoven, huh
Run that, run that motherf*ckin' hook back, ha
Me, me, me, me and Pump just cooked that, ooh, yeah
[Chorus: Lil Pump]
Ayy, I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish b*tches butt naked and they twerkin' on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold

[Verse 3: Rich The Kid]
Hey!
Break the brick, I shipped it, wrapped it in Saran (break it down)
Ouu, all my n*ggas trappin' (trap), we ain't have a plan (Rich!)
Ayy, plug walk on that pus*y 'cause your b*tch a fan
(plug walk, lil' b*tch)
Ouu, you ain't got no money, go and get some bands
(go get some bands)
Ayy, racin' Little Pump, I just pulled out the Lamb (skrrt, skrrt)
Huh, I got the blue chips (blue chips)
Zay told me don't take out no rude crip (huh)
I'm droppin' her off, she a groupie (groupie)
Don't worry, my shooters they shootin' (grra)
I got fast cars (cars)
Foreign broad, superstar (foreign)
This a push start (push)
She wake up, eat the di*k up, a Pop-Tart (like a Pop-Tart)
Ouu, I gotta flex on 'em
Young n*gga walk around with a check on 'em (check)
'Rari, not the Jag (Jag)
Pinky ring a bag (what)
I got fast cars (cars)
Speed racer, it's a NASCAR (a NASCAR)
Ayy, Bentley off the lot, I do the dash, boy (I do the dash, boy)
Ouu, boy your mixtape, throw that in the trash, boy
(in the trash, boy)
I just f*cked your b*tch because she asked for it (Rich!)
[Chorus: Lil Pump]
Ayy, I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish b*tches butt naked and they twerkin' on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad b*tches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can't fold