Haute Couture lyrics

[Verse 1: RU$H]
Uh—
A hundred-thousand in the shoebox; I punch like Errol Spence and Ugas
We can get it poppin' with a few shots in the clip kickin' like Ong-Bak; who hot? (Woo!)
I might pull a grip out the tube sock, threw shots and wake up a few blocks (Grrt)
I'm in too deep (Uh), pass me the oo-wop to calm all that uncool ruckus like The Boondocks (That's a Fendi)
Uh— I take a puff of the moon rock, then hit 'em up like 2Pac (Grrt)
The squad and the crew hot; the way I'm rubbin' elbows'll raise a eyebrow, I'm the new Rock
Dude, stop (Stop) - you don't know the Fendi Don, you never knew Fah
Twin blickies on, that's two Glocks (Hahahaha)
With the grip, I give a round of Hpnotiq— what's that?
Blue shots out the Ferrari, I let the tool pop (Uh— Woo!)

[Verse 2: Tha God Fahim]
My temperament be legendary (Legendary)
We primary, no secondary; the .40 be my secretary (Secretary)
Paint the Porsche p*ss to complement the Canaries
I'm military-grade dangerous; they know my language
If it ain't big money, then we ain't speakin' the same sh*t (We not the same)
Executive package on the Benz, this ain't the same sh*t (We not the same)
Rolex came original, the scales was digital
Invested in the rap game, the change was pivotal
They say I'm so fly, it's criminal; I murder fashion
Even before the bag came in, I still was doin' 'em nasty
Now all we do is chauffeurs; I'll let you do the taxis
I'm great as the Gatsbys
Want a few pointers? Then just ask me