Cashmere lyrics

[Intro]
Yo
Wolf, Gang
Golf, Wang
Yo, yo

[Verse]
Swag me out, b*tch
In a eight-thousand dollar outfit
Yeah, I hear these n*ggas talking, ain't about sh*t
I'm on 15, these n*ggas on Cloud 6
Tryna get to 9, I'm who they get behind
Thirsty to get some shine, but b*tch, you can't skip the line
And time won't even give you minutes, 'cause this sh*t is mine
You live that ad-lib life, with the unscripted lines
I kill em all, just ball, no evidence behind
My steps too complex, you can't convict the crime
I'm just a criminal, high to my last breath
In and out of cities pushing missies till no gas left
Street ballin, I was rushing out, n***a, my Timex
And I'm about that f*cking scratch paper like a math test
That good sh*t is forming back, Rogaine
And they so plain I can't feel em, cocaine
When it's in the nasal and you're facially numb, mane
Snorting all them five dollar verses, them sh*ts is chump change
I'm on my grind, that's some cliche sh*t
But if they see me anywhere, my enemies hate quick
Like, "He ain't even swag, n*gga, he can't spit," and
"Everytime he come around we feel like we ain't sh*t"
Save the chit-chatter, it's money to get after
Cheating in the book of life, a n*gga about to skip chapters
From flat broke to phat quotes, I'm a real bast*rd
And I smoke weed till I feel like a zen master
It's certified homicide, I'm a clit' master
High class pretty b*tch basher, big kush asher
Told me, "Domo, you're the chosen one"
Convincing every single b*tch that they the only one
This sh*t was cute even way before the song begun
If I'm not a real n*gga, then show me one
But b*tch, don't show me none