[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Conway]

Aye yo, I had to Vert the Vanquish
Basquiats in the bandos, we tasteless

S.E. Gang, hammer on the way shit
Leavin' the club wasted, waivin' it in n***as faces

Louis reekin' out my fuckin' pores
Sweepin' coke off of marble floors

Madusa head on the buckle, shit
I came with the semi-LV's on the luggages

Blood bottoms with the spikes on it
Canary Chopard, pink ice on it

Fresh new MAC on the dresser chillin'
Watchin' Run's House, daydreamin' 'bout Vanessa Simmons

Playin' chess on the luggage
Zanotti’s unzipped match the Lagerfeld bucket

Smell the dope on me at the little homie graduation
He caught his first body, told him, "congratulations"

Rockin' minks at the Broner fight
If the four pound dope than the chopper might

How the fuck you 'gon do me harm, n***a?
I'm surrounded by shooters, I'm Lebron n***a

Shootin' like Curry n***a
Do you like Flip when Birdie ripped him

Two .45's on me like Jimmy Jump
MAC in the Reagan era, bag in the baby's trunk

Python on the Just Don's
Fendi dinner plates with the Gold Bond

Twistin' up the gas in a Versace store
Spent so much cash they gotta lock the door

The SLS coke white
Free Sly Green, they gave my n***a four lifes

This the kind of shit the game miss, hurricane wrist
In the kitchen whippin' up a cocaine dish

Stop the bank at the dice game
Catch him in the yard with the knife gang

N***as ain't fuckin' with my night game
Forty for the Hublot, that was light change

Couple MACs in my bitch Birkin
Throw him off the roof now he fly for certain

And bitch I want all the cash
Conway, Westside Gunn, Hall and Nash, n***a

Griselda, by Fashion Rebels