Magazine Cover Lyrics

I had to take it to the top, yeah what you thought

I can't make a stop until I'm posted in my loft

Yeah this thirty-three is strong, it make you cough

Motherfuckers cappin' like they really be the boss

Had to dip from the party, it was no vibes

I can't fuck with petty shit, that shit got hoe vibes

Had to block a couple bitches in my phone line

Cause them bitches really wanna take my whole life, yeah

Ain't gonna lie

I'm very motherfuckin' fried

This shit is fire and I ain't even fuckin' tried

Like a jet I'm finna take off, yeah

I keep ballin' to the playoffs, yeah

I need a ring and I need another

I'm a champion, homie did I even stutter

Diamonds lookin' like a paintin' shit, I see the colors

Watch me get the Forbes magazine cover (magazine cover)

Watch me pull up in a motherfuckin' Beamer (woah woah woah)

It's a two-seater, got me a whip and I know Imma keep her (skrt skrt skrt)

But the top, I'ma leave it, yeah

Leave it behind, we don't motherfuckin' need it

Shift up a gear, I ain't speedin'

Kick down the pedal, the engine is pleasin'

When I be out, then I feel like a demon, yeah

I'm tryna get mad rich, not marriage

Had to stack it all up in the past tense

Taking the whole cake, no fractions

I really had to get it, not random

Why the fuck would you even go that far

I didn't get that part

I need to get me a fast car

Big mansion I'm the landlord

I got my dick stuck in her titties, that's a booby trap

I got a brand new truck with a coupe to match

Challenge me to kush-ups, yeah, you losin' that

Shout out to Gunna, I remember I was pushin' packs

You got me gassed up, homie, pass a lighter

She asked me if it make her look fat, I told that bitch "kinda"

Not only ya card, ay, but ya cash declining

If you gettin' on my nerve, that was your last sighting, bitch (boom boom boom)

(I keep ballin' to the play offs

This shit is fire, I ain't even fuckin' tried

Had to dip from the party, it was no vibes

Petty shit, that shit got hoe vibes)