[Intro: Adin Ross]
Look
Okay, look
Check
I’m, too sexy for this-
Hold on
Too sexy for-
Hold on I gotta catch this shit
Alright, look
Look, look

[Chorus: Adin Ross & Cordae ]
I’m, too sexy for this beat ( Uh)
I’m 'bout to beat his, no ( Uh)
I’m not about to do that shit
I’m 'bout to spit some shit
I’m 'bout to talk my shit
I’m 'bout to fuck yo’ bitch ( Uh)
I’m 'bout to go crazy ( Uh)
Lilo no Stitch
Uh-huh, I’m rich
I stack bread
I stack this shit, I go crazy and stack bricks (Yuh)
Look, I go crazy, I stack bricks
Fuck (Hold on, I got you, I got you, uh)
[Verse: Cordae & Adin Ross]
I'm with Adin Ross, I don't play the boss
She want titties, I'ma pay the cost
Buy her new clothes, take 'em off
And my dick hard, tell 'em make it soft
I'm a real n***a, I don't fake it all
Used to have dreams, fucker playin' ball
We back to the topic, how I fuckin' got it
I'm not ever tryna lose my train of thought
I'm a real n***a but my father realer
Hit fifty M's, and I'ma cop a villa
And I was just talkin' with Quincy Jones
"Like what's goin' on?" Y'all droppin' Thriller
I'm a stack of cheese, n***a, mozzarella
Hi-Level is the new Roc-A-Fella
Two years I'm headlinin' Coachella
How I [?] helicopter a propeller
I was raised by the local dope dealer
Need mo' skriller, I'm a cold killer in this shit (Woo)
Smoke good cannabis, keep a banana clip
I'm like a gorilla in this shit
[?] Egypt, around the pyramids
While the four wheelers in they shit
Y'all on that hate shit, on that fake shit
Like who mo' realer in this shit?
Ayy, woah, ayy, was just in Australia with Gunna
Little bitch, we can have sex if you wanna
She poppin' X, I'm just on marijuana
Ayy, woah, ayy, woah, okay
I came, I saw, I conquered
Dealin' with a lot of shit like a plunger
Stay with some balls, n***a, Willy Wonka
Ayy, got that advanced, I'ma fuck up a cheque
Your favourite actress was suckin' my neck
Fifty-two, o-five, [?] protect
Stackin' my bread, I got tons to invest
Gotta thank God 'cause a n***a is blessed
Every year I look more richer and sexy
Stackin' my millies, the riches is heavy
My album is comin', you n***as ain't ready
Like, woah, okay
Coupe cost a cool quarter mill'
My Lamborghini color orange teal
New crib paid by the tourin' deals
Took your favorite singer on a fuckin' date
I'll still show up late like Lauryn Hill
Then I hit it good in my penthouse
Told her "Get out" like Jordan Peele
(Oh my god)
My pants saggin', my chain hangin'
[?] my main thang
But my next album'll sell a million copies
'Cause this lifestyle I gotta maintain
I got a million problems, plus a million dollars
I just had to spend it, get my n***as outta
Fuckin' prison, I ain't even trippin' 'bout it
'Cause if I got it, then my n***as got it
Like, all my dogs like Harold and Kumar
Bro girl opps convert out the Jumamah
New foreign bitch she from Cuba
These ain't alligators, these Pumas
And I give a fuck about a bitch
And what she got to say, I can't address a rumor
Everything we do is high level
Go and buy bezels from the best jeweler
Plus my diamonds straight up outta Africa
They girls say she diggin' my vernacular
I be flippin' them shit like a spatula
She know I don't do nothing that's regular
Hold on, got a phone call on my cellular
I'm a pretty big deal, girl I'm tellin' ya
I done wrote more hits for Eric Bellinger
Keep the Tommy on me like Angelica
Ay, way too fuckin' sexy for this shirt
I'm way too fuckin' sexy for this shirt, (Bro) yeah, yeah
I'm way too muhfuckin' sexy yeah
I'm way too muhfuckin' sexy yeah
You fuck with that junk?
(Dude what the-)