God Damn - HoodRich Pablo Juan

She know she bad, I got that bag

Foreign with 230 on the dash

I could count cash fast

Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans

Roll up gelato, three grams

Stuffing my pocket with bands

She cute, she having a hand

I’m rich, I know I’m the man, yeah

Ice on my neck, goddamn

I got bitches popping up like spam

Send my money, give her twenty two grams

Sell the whole thing, we don’t sell no grams

She got a fat ass, goddamn

I got Supreme on my Vans

Gucci bag, fill it with bands

Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

I’m ice skating, got my shooter waiting

I, I got the cookies, baking

I wanna fuck, I’m impatient

Foreign, she half-Asian

Foreign, I ride like I’m racing

Dirty AK with my shell cases

None of my bitches is basic

On the red pill like Neo in The Matrix

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Everything I wear is rare

Gucci with snakes and lions and bears

Louis Vuitton, I love Damier

Fuck from the back and I pull on her hair

Yeah, rocking Chanels and Moncler

Outfit, it come out next year

I’m drinking lean, not no beer

Yeah, strapped the fuck up, ain’t no reason to fear

Get your ass busted, ain’t no pussies over here

Brand new foreign with the camera in the rear

Twenty thousand worth of ice in one ear

I got some bitches that’s white like vanilla

These niggas falling off the map like Sears

I got these haters mad, they in tears

My niggas sharp, I cut like a seal

She know she bad, I got that bag

Foreign with 230 on the dash

I could count cash fast

Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans

Roll up gelato, three grams

Stuffing my pocket with bands

She cute, she having a hand

I’m rich, I know I’m the man, yeah

Ice on my neck, goddamn

I got bitches popping up like spam

Send my money, give her twenty two grams

Sell the whole thing, we don’t sell no grams

She got a fat ass, goddamn

I got Supreme on my Vans

Gucci bag, fill it with bands

Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

VS all-black diamonds like Wesley

Beat up the pot like I’m playing Tekken

Can’t wear silver, I ain’t come in second

I ain’t got no time for these thots and these peasants

Yeah, strapped up like I was Giuseppes

Bad bitch I just seen at Essex

All of my bitches, they too sexy

1017 chain, cop a fezzy

Just like the police, you gotta arrest it

I fuck her and treat her like a pedestrian

Fly by with butterfly wings on my Tesla

Cook with that pot like professional wrestler

Pour that shit up, why the fuck would I measure?

Gucci bag with the .38 special

I’m rocking Louis like I could play Chess

I spread like the old man that you piss

Ooh, I make her give me the neck

Call me PJ like a private jet

Trap like a soldier, got stacks on deck

I stay in Designer, I walk on a check

I’m dressing like I’m vinegarette

I bust that seal on that Hitech

Rich nigga, I bet I can get her wet

She want shit bad, but I got the check

She know she bad, I got that bag

Foreign with 230 on the dash

I could count cash fast

Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans

Roll up gelato, three grams

Stuffing my pocket with bands

She cute, she having a hand

I’m rich, I know I’m the man, yeah

Ice on my neck, goddamn

I got bitches popping up like spam

Send my money, give her twenty to

Sell the whole thing, we don’t sell no grams

She got a fat ass, goddamn

I got Supreme on my Vans

Gucci bag, fill it with bands

Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah