[Chorus]
Got the red bottom shoes, got the rockstar pants
Yeah these hoes they hoes pick and choose, tryna ruin my plans
She hit me up like "What's the mood?"
These hoes the same they so damn bland
Said she tired of these briggers
Bitch don't try hold my hand
Yeah I'm boostin' these hoes
I will not lose like these hoes
Yeah these bitches say they love me
I'm not cool with these hoes
I keep a tool for these hoes
I brought my Juuls 'round these hoes
I'm not with that lovey dovey I'm too cool for these hoes

[Verse 1]
I'm burning rubber in the road, these bitches taking of they clothes
And these hoes they go all sad, to bad her brigger didn't know
I never listen to a hoe she want a Mink Gucci coat
But I'm flexin' and finessin' on my way down the road
Yeah she mad, yeah she mad, when I pull up in that drop
Too much cash, too much cash, [?] like a rockstar
Livin' like a rockstar, too much cash
When they see me yeah they know I'm hot like "Who's that man?"
Was in the back of a cop car a year ago, I'm back
Tryna rap, this shit ain't not hard, your bitch said it was wack