God Damn lyrics

[Chorus]
She know she bad, I got that bag
Foreign with 230 on the dash
I could count cash fast
Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans
Roll up gelato, three grams
Stuffing my pocket with bands
She cute, she having a hand
I'm rich, I know I'm the man, yeah
Ice on my neck, goddamn
I got b*tches popping up like spam
Send my money, give her twenty two grams
Sell the whole thing, we don't sell no grams
She got a fat ass, goddamn
I got Supreme on my Vans
Gucci bag, fill it with bands
Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

[Verse 1]
I'm ice skating, got my shooter waiting
I, I got the cookies, baking
I wanna f*ck, I'm impatient
Foreign, she half-Asian
Foreign, I ride like I'm racing
Dirty AK with my shell cases
None of my b*tches is basic
On the red pill like Neo in The Matrix
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Everything I wear is rare
Gucci with snakes and lions and bears
Louis Vuitton, I love Damier
f*ck from the back and I pull on her hair
Yeah, rocking Chanels and Moncler
Outfit, it come out next year
I'm drinking lean, not no beer
Yeah, strapped the f*ck up, ain't no reason to fear
Get your ass busted, ain't no pussies over here
Brand new foreign with the camera in the rear
Twenty thousand worth of ice in one ear
I got some b*tches that's white like vanilla
These n*ggas falling off the map like Sears
I got these haters mad, they in tears
My n*ggas sharp, I cut like a seal
[Chorus]
She know she bad, I got that bag
Foreign with 230 on the dash
I could count cash fast
Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans
Roll up gelato, three grams
Stuffing my pocket with bands
She cute, she having a hand
I'm rich, I know I'm the man, yeah
Ice on my neck, goddamn
I got b*tches popping up like spam
Send my money, give her twenty two grams
Sell the whole thing, we don't sell no grams
She got a fat ass, goddamn
I got Supreme on my Vans
Gucci bag, fill it with bands
Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

[Verse 2]
VS all-black diamonds like Wesley
Beat up the pot like I'm playing Tekken
Can't wear silver, I ain't come in second
I ain't got no time for these thots and these peasants
Yeah, strapped up like I was Giuseppes
Bad b*tch I just seen at Essex
All of my b*tches, they too sexy
1017 chain, cop a fezzy
Just like the police, you gotta arrest it
I f*ck her and treat her like a pedestrian
Fly by with butterfly wings on my Tesla
Cook with that pot like professional wrestler
Pour that sh*t up, why the f*ck would I measure?
Gucci bag with the .38 special
I'm rocking Louis like I could play Chess
I spread like the old man that you p*ss
Ooh, I make her give me the neck
Call me PJ like a private jet
Trap like a soldier, got stacks on deck
I stay in Designer, I walk on a check
I'm dressing like I'm vinegarette
I bust that seal on that Hitech
Rich n*gga, I bet I can get her wet
She want sh*t bad, but I got the check
[Chorus]
She know she bad, I got that bag
Foreign with 230 on the dash
I could count cash fast
Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans
Roll up gelato, three grams
Stuffing my pocket with bands
She cute, she having a hand
I'm rich, I know I'm the man, yeah
Ice on my neck, goddamn
I got b*tches popping up like spam
Send my money, give her twenty to [?]
Sell the whole thing, we don't sell no grams
She got a fat ass, goddamn
I got Supreme on my Vans
Gucci bag, fill it with bands
Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah