"Isabel Marant" lyrics

Yeah I'm on they ass (yea)
Hop up on that couch and roll up latto out the bag (bag)
I don't need a stylist they cant fuck with Coi Leray
Try to count me out and now I'm big as Trippie Redd
I hope I don't crash
Scrape up all the rim on the sidewalk riding fast
I can't wait to pour up and cook up up in that lab
This that brand new Rick, Denim Tears, LV tags
This that brand new Rick, Denim Tears, LV tags

I don't know nothing
No time for these bitches I don't know
This Prada bag come with problems
These Tiffany Nikes step right on these bozos
Gotta Undercover vest and it cost me like 3 racks and they don't know
YSL drip on the jet
They flew me direct and put me in front row

Yea my diamonds big like a wrestler
I put Forgiatos on my Tesla
Wake up got to sleep in Margiela
Bitch I got that, on my dresser
Bitch I'm really rich got my check up

Yea my socks is Kapital
Walk in Christian Dior with Kenzo loafers
Red carpet I'm casual
Isabel Morant in Paris
Yea, yea, yea