Rick Owens Lyrics

I can't leave the house without my stick

I got my shit on me

Nigga you a hustla

Get off yo ass

And get sum going

Times got dark

But I was still rocking Rick owens

Clothes be so damn baggy

I can't even fit em

Look like I fucking stole em

Trench baby

All I ever wanted was a fucking Rollie

We dun swapped the vins out inna Benz

We inna fucking stollie

Crunch time

Anyone of us can get us through 4th quarter

Swapping out these pieces

I got visas going across the border

We a got to work

onna opps like we colleagues

Tell them niggas drop me they location like I'm khalid

I be tryna see the best in niggas

But they ain't valid

I'm somewhere with exotic trees

Them bitches look like salad

In a att in taledega

Like I'm Ricky Bobby

Hit the fashion district

And wrapp Ricky

All around my body

I wadnt even tryna scam fr

This was a fucking hobby

Now I hit the sto with my pro

Like this a fucking robbery

No mask

200 in this mazi bet I won't crash

Crossed you out that lic

You understood

So how you still mad

I really hate these niggas

Got me starting to feel like Stacy dash

That ain't me from the last time you seen me

I'm inna different bag