[Intro: Young Thug]
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, ayy

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I came a long way from projects to jumpin' off private jets
And on my neck baguettes, yeah
She lookin' at me like, "You next"
She tryna eat me up just like a damn T-Rex, huh
Okay, this baddie tried to fuck me the same night I met her
I told the bitch, "Do better"
Yeah, I tote them diamonds in my bezels
They come in all type colors
Just like a Gucci sweatеr, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Peppеrmint it, red and white diamonds, yeah
Inside the coupe came red just like Elmo, uh
Scarecrow, leave you fly as hell, yeah, crow, uh
Velcro sandals, yeah, might as well 'cro
Shell toes, yeah, ho
Fed hoes got me talkin' with my SLATT code
Fuck what I did, don't give away my cat, hold out
Summer time we bring them hoes out
Billy Kimber, OG smokin' motherfucker
Fuck around and let me find out you said somethin' else to my brother
Can't keep sayin' I go YoungBoy with this motherfuckin' cutter, yeah
And we slimy and grimy like no other, yeah
Gang not off tracks, bring me that cat
Triple coated, she done tattooed over a tat
Cubic zirconia the reason she cannot be brat, yeah
She ain't strong, ain't got no back, she ain't black, yeah
Bitch went got way too many hips, had to send her back, yeah
Candy coated Rolls Royce symbol in the back, ha
N***a actin' itchy with you, he get scratched, ha
I came from nothin', I got big racks, ha
[Chorus: Young Thug]
I came a long way from projects to jumpin' off private jets
And on my neck baguettes, yeah
She lookin' at me like, "You next"
She tryna eat me up just like a damn T-Rex, huh
Okay, this baddie tried to fuck me the same night I met her
I told the bitch, "Do better"
Yeah, I tote them diamonds in my bezels
They come in all type colors
Just like a Gucci sweater, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2: Gunna]
Slidin' down Rodeo just passin' Hermes
Saw a baddie with a Birkin with her hair down her ass
Parked the car stoppin' traffic, I can't let this one pass
Snipe her eyes and quickly tell this bitch, "Use the class"
The foreign roof I blast, I can screen touch the dash
Low key I ain't puttin' that shit on blast, let my bitch poppin' brat
All your life you fuck with peasants put that shit in the past
Till you met me now you got a preference they can’t even be mad
I got two-hundred on my neck, seventy on my right
Just one-fifty on my left, yeah
Baguettes on my latest bitch
Troup cleaned up and polished, we rock solid, can't finagle it
Remember serve at the palace with a BP was my favorite
Feel like perfect timin', fly to an island, we just kickin' shit
Even when I wasn't rich, young Gunna wasn't the type to penny pinch
Said I was illiterate now you can't reap the benefits
Rollin' in my Cullinan, my double R mean really rich
[Chorus: Young Thug]
I came a long way from projects to jumpin' off private jets
And on my neck baguettes, yeah
She lookin' at me like, "You next"
She tryna eat me up just like a damn T-Rex, huh
Okay, this baddie tried to fuck me the same night I met her
I told the bitch, "Do better"
Yeah, I tote them diamonds in my bezels
They come in all type colors
Just like a Gucci sweater, yeah, yeah

[Outro]
(Run that back, Turbo)