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I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me In high fashion only Hey, hey, hey I don't know 'bout you I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me It's high fashion on me Hey, hey, hey (Vino Valentino) I don't know 'bout you Me and Valee got the city hot Valet the DB11 at Diddy's spot I don't usually rap 'bout the shit I got You a hater for a living, that's a shitty job I just made 2 mil, I don't milly rock My IG inbox is full of forget-me-nots They know I got my own money Handmade t-shirt, it's Off-White Murakami Met her at Equinox, she got no tummy, hey Cartier lenses, I see the full shit 20/20, hey You hate your life, you checkin' the price I don't use Tinder, all I do is swipe Glock 17 as I kiss you goodnight Letras de cancionesI'm not 17, bitch, I don't want to fight Just performed at Playhouse, left with a Play Bunny Michael Jordan's Steakhouse, fillet, sautéed onions He say he gon' rob me, he think he Davis, haha, that shit funny Get your girl, she on my line, she forgot her panties, Vino I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me In high fashion on me Hey, hey, hey I don't know 'bout you I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me It's high fashion on me Hey, hey, hey I don't know 'bout you Sittin' at the light, I rock Off-White Four-door is white, my diamonds bright Stayed up tonight, late up, you right Yves St. Laurent, baby, you're mine You trippin', yeah, I'm gon' leave you Cross-shoulder Gucci knapsack, I see you Promethazine with no ice, don't need you Push up in the driveway, no top, don't need you Stop and wipe off my Margielas, they bleedin' (hey, yeah) I'm off a Percocet 30, don't need it (yeah, huh) That ain't no real Actavis, you can keep it (tuh, uh huh) Your bitch top model, that's why she conceited (yeah, uh huh) I can see shit clear I rock the zones, I see the fu shit clear, hey Hundred thousand on me, hey I got my own money, yeah I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me It's high fashion on me Hey, hey, hey I don't know 'bout you I'm in the Ferrari Modena I'm in that new Spider, this not a four seater Bitch got an Aston Martin, no Gina I painted my nails red, her hair red, paprika Ooh, she need security, Brinks her I took her to Catch, this ain't no Little Caesars My Chinese bitches bad, they look like a Geisha My African bitch bad, she pray to Orishas I'm smokin' loud like an ice cream truck speakers It's Halloween, I'm in Christian Dior creepers This is not Pucci, this some Gucci sneakers I don't know 'bout you, hey I don't know 'bout you but I got my own money Hundred thousand on me In high fashion on me Hey, hey, hey I don't know 'bout you From Letras Mania