Helmut Lang Lyrics

Woke up, countin' cash

Helmut Lang, fuck it throw it on the tab

Just left the tailor I still like that fitted swag

Jeans they sag

Hell yeah I know they mad

Niggas copy and paste like they robotic

I don't talk bout that shit cause I don't know bout it

Bitch I do what I do I don't post bout it

She a pretty down bit and she homebody

I might fuck around and just make her mine

I'm rollin up stank and she feeding me grapes while I'm discussing my business plans

Ain't wanna talk when it hit the fan

I lay down a verse and I count a ten

I make all my tracks and I load em' in

I could sell em' all and then make some M's

I just wanted to ball now I'm in the gym

Presidential whip I pull up with them tints

Niggas act like bitches sending hints

Out here tellin lies, I ain't worried I ain't phased none

Versace on my eyes, I stay geeked up like an Asian

Vintage leather jacket when it's cool I feel amazing

Counting up daily, that's an understatement

Woke up, countin' cash

Helmut Lang, fuck it throw it on the tab

Just left the tailor I still like that fitted swag

Jeans they sag

Hell yeah I know they mad

Mihara they fit oversize

Come first I don't know bout a tie

Switch up look good with a suit and a tie, yeah

She want me to hit from the side

We pop bottles and live life, yeah

I'm tryna catch me a vibe

I'm off the smack and I'm getting too fried

All of them nights I ain't even get tired

I'm having dough just like a Pizza Hut

Stingy with my sauce cause everything I do get eaten up

Heard they gone flock to you like some birds

Baby these some words

Yeah baby, these just words

That's the worst

That's the muthafuckin' curse

When they love you that shit hurts

When they love you then they hate you that shit hurts

Woke up, countin' cash

Helmut Lang, fuck it throw it on the tab

Just left the tailor I still like that fitted swag

Jeans they sag

Hell yeah I know they mad