PARIS Lyrics

I'm in the lot, still swerving in a Benz truck

We made it pop, yeah they say these niggas turnt up

100 did a show, but I'm still waiting on my pay stub

She real exotic, she say she don't need no makeup

I ain't never gave a fuck, I'm screaming hell yeah

Spent a check up on my coat, Maison Margiela

Ain't shit sweet, I dropped two B's up on this sweater

Hoes in the lobby, I just made em' take the stairs up

Who that looking through the glass tints

Who they is and what they asking

They must thought that we was lacking

Til' we turned em' into past tense

Shawty bopping, yeah she soaking up my leather seats

Ain't even had to ask her what she tryna eat

B.B. Simmons belt with the designer jeans

I got niggas tryna diss me over YouTube beats

Why the fuck these niggas tryna hate

I don't got no fucking enemies

Fuck all that shit, I told shawty just bust it right open

Open the pit , and the niggas go out of control and they

Blacked out whips, every time we hit the road

Rockstar shit, got them jumping at the show

Shawty on my dick, I got her knocking at my door

I got young niggas in Paris, rocking Comme de Garçons

Who that looking through the glass tints

Cutting corners, yeah, we swerving through the back ends

Yeah, 120, what my dash say

Fuck 12, yeah, you know we screaming free Banks

She need a rich nigga, that's gon' ice up both her wrists

Count six figures, fuck your label, I don't need a split

You see the chain, yeah, you know who I'm rocking with

AMG shit, but I'm not just talking whips

Little bitch, I cannot hear you

Put that shit in my rearview

Crash the whip I hit the rearview

I ain't never knew the real you