Playboi Carti
Designer Shoes (Version 1)
[Verse]
Yeah, hol' up
I might hit that bih', yeah, in some Gucci socks
I just shot a pussy n***a in a parking lot, yeah
Let me talk my shit, let me get this shit (Real trap shit)
N***a poppin' shit, (China), let me pop my shit
I want 250, just to rock this shit, just to rock this shit
I'ma need like 250, just to kill the beat
Just to kill the beat, just to kill the beat
Got that telescope on me, yeah, I never miss
Got that real dope money like I'm sellin' crystal
I can't even hold you, I can't fuck with none of these n***as, they bitches
All of these n***as, they hating on Cash (Hol' up)
We fucking these bitches (Hol' up)
We got money too (Slatt)
I smoked a pound or two, got a bitch she rocking Prada too (Yeah)
And she got designer shoes (Yeah)
And I got designer too
Too sick, that bitch done caught the flu (Yeah)
My bitch from Atlanta too (Yeah)
She hit the bitch with that 22 (Yeah)
I could put a bag on you (Yeah)
I could put them racks on you (Yeah)
I just got the tracks, yeah (Yeah)
I'ma pull her tracks too (Yeah)
Ratchet bitch so bad
Butterfly doors, spent a million on clothes
Yeah, AP two-tone, bought that bitch on the road
Yeah, lemme call my partner up, yeah, he got clean dope
Yeah, she want clean dope
Yeah, I want some lean, ho
Yeah, I need a mean hoe
Yeah, she trap with the kid, yeah
That what them folks sayin'
Young n***a don't miss, yeah
Young n***a don't miss, hol' up
[Chorus]
And then I met ya
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
I gotta rock this shit
I gotta rock this shit
I gotta rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
Just to rock this shit
[Open Verse]