Heat Check ft. Bandman Ken Lyrics

I'm spendin' thousands every week, fresh as fuck, got on Lanvins with Givenchy on my tee

You a bitch, boy, stop fakin' like you street, you a dummy, why you cuff that hoe and I can fuck for free

Gettin' famous, I can't leave the crib unless I got my heat

She was goin' and she let me hit, bro, why you mad at me

Dumb shit, wakin' up the neighbors in that SRT

I can pull up from wherever like I'm Curry, this a heat check

Rich nigga, got the newest Jordans and they ain't release yet

I get money, so you better know that I'm about to spend it

I like Ksubis, RTAs, nigga, all my jeans expensive

I ain't been up in the booth, let me go lock in

I got a 50 on the switch, this bitch is boxin

We doin' the dash up in the wagon

And this bitch ain't rented', I ain't been up in my bag

They thought I went missing

In the SRT, tires scratchin' up the block

Your bitch fuckin', and she goin', and she got your ass on block

RTA, denims damn twenty's hangin' out my damn pocket

Still ballin' on these niggas huh

And they ain't gotta know me

Say you gone do what

Pussy boy, you better show me

This ain't no iced out, this a Plain Jane Rollie