[Intro]
(Ooh, Rell)
Yeah
What I gotta do? Uh (Yeah)
Never (Yeah, want you to)

[Chorus]
How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you?
Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you?
I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci
I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves
I'm so sick and tired of these n***as lookin' like clowns and they fresh
Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex
Tryna find another n***a like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet)
N***a asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet

[Verse 1]
Wear the same shit every day, n***a, I can't even joke with you
This Louis bubble cost me 6K, bought this bitch on a bad day
So I don't get wet in the rain
I'm wearin' Rick Owens (I'm wearin' Rick Owens)
Spread my money up my arm
A designer must be watchin' me 'cause my angels is farm
She be puttin' that shit on while she listenin' to all my songs
Every time I put on that Marni, shit, I can never do no wrong
I can never play a two-tone, this new opp pack kind of strong
I ain't gon' lie, man, the set gotta deal with me (Deal with me)
If you fuckin' a n***a, I just ask you be real with me
When I'm out of town, she be shoppin', I tell her just sit in the build with me
Gettin' money like a skill to me, I'm so fresh, she'll kill for me
[Chorus]
How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you?
Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you?
I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci
I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves
I'm so sick and tired of these n***as lookin' like clowns and they fresh
Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex
Tryna find another n***a like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet)
N***a asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet

[Verse 2]
Drive fast in a Hellcat, I don't know where I'm goin'
Think the feds tapped my phone, I live in a million-dollar home
I fuck her from the back on my throne
You know I'm dripped in designer every time I go to sleep
She dripped in designer too, she give a fuck about shit more than me
Supercharger on that Tesla, they flick me, I'ma keep goin'
I got a Chrome Heart shirt on, I got my heart on my arm
Every time I ask her how she feel, she say she could feel it in her soul
I could never trust no ho, I've been backdoored, I've been bro'ed (Backdoored by the bros)
Really, I'm low on love, got nothin' to give (I'm so low)
All I got is this drank and pills, she thinkin' 'bout me, I'm thinkin' 'bout a million
All young n***a come and shoot, he say it's score, we gon' open a seal
I just chose me over you, she can't even believe it's you

[Chorus]
How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you?
Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you?
I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci
I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves
I'm so sick and tired of these n***as lookin' like clowns and they fresh
Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex
Tryna find another n***a like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet)
N***a asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet
[Outro]
What I gotta do, uh?
Emilio Pucci, I took you—