Mr. T
Brrr! Ayo, ayo
Nike MAGs glow when I tip toe
Fuck you mean I been dope?
Half my shooters sniff coke
With no aim, you better get low
Tackma lettermans with a TEC in it
Feed fuck niggas rope
Don't put ya neck in it
Got my troops in Off White boots pulled up
I had my foot hangin' out the coupe
Off White flannel lookin' like a lumberjack
With the 30 poppin'
You don't want none of that
Dsquared apron over these squares
Ronnie Fieg, I need size 9 in every pair
Do a nigga filthy for the right price
Dom Pérignon, the lobster and fried rice
One brick, one brick all I need is one brick
Ayo, drive-bys out of Teslas
Scrape the pots for the extras
Bodies dropping on the regular
Run laps around these other
Rap niggas for fun
At Fashion week with the M1
Y'all niggas bums
Killer designer, a serial killer
Niggas thought I was just rhymin' iller
Then I pulled out the stick, run ya jewels
Run the money
He tried to run and hopped the fence
Tore his back up like Junior nigga
Filthy rich, wash my sins with Ace
Allahu Akbar, all this work is flake
I'ma be fly forever if the stove work
She sniffin' so much molly
That bitch nose hurt
I was on the path, getting money on the ave
Fiends Milly Rock
They seeing that my work glass
If shit slow up
I'ma look prettier in a mask
The cracks in the chip bag
The MAC by the trash
The 45 look big on his forehead
Shot him more times
Left that nigga more dead
One brick, one brick all I need is one brick