"Black Fish In Tuxedos" lyrics
(feat. Jimi Banks)
I'm in the Hamptons wine tasting
Smashing grapes in my Bottegas
Tryna take me out my grace I'll send you to them high places
Versace bed sheets I sleep in all designer labels
I don't do the runways
Only runway is when I fly the plane
Expensive habits
I drape my body in expensive fabrics
My Uda hold the big twelve like March Madness
My broad Spanish
She in the Bronx stashing
Work inside the Nail Salon
Her ass fat and her hair is long
I smoke cigars
I'm wavy baby like the Coast Guards
Exotic cars
This Mozart meets Ozark
I'm peeping game
You lil pups need coaching dog
I'm star status
Smoke in designer man that's high fashion
I'm at the Mondrian I toll the clerks to hold my baggage
I need the horse and carriage
I don't need divorce or marriage
I need 100 acres with the Porsche in front the Mansion
I'm not in danger
I am danger
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, huh?
Come here, come here
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?
Uncle Larry
You pussies can't share my air
Walk a mile in a pair I wear
And I'm getting better year by year
And I'm still right here
Ain't taking people to the top that hate to see me there
Listen, I don't know no fucking Kianna
I leave the phone unlocked so when she acting like Madonna
She can see that I got options
I don't really need the drama
Plenty fish up in the sea, but these bitches is some piranhas
Wine pouring in my suite
Rick Owens on my feet
Cashmere on my skin while Sinatra bumping on my speaks
Fly to Paris for a week
Tokyo for the steez
Diamonds help me freeze so I shine when I'm in Belize
Upper East Side living
Butler in the kitchen
Double R stitching complements my ambition
Rolls, no Lincoln
Park Ave, Minkin'
Left hand on the phone, right pinky ring on her kitten
You thought your man's real till shit got real
Now it's a gender reveal
Pink blood spilled
You otter tell nobody
Keep your lips sealed
Or get your cap peeled back from the scratch steel
Labels labeled me difficult because they couldn't fuck me
Same people got laid off, turned into junkies
Man, they used to duck me
Now they want to suck me
Asking for a job
Industry is getting ugly
I dropped the country album
I ain't even fucking country
Then Post Malone went and put the cunt in the country
Closing doors, took my passport, and left the country
Back to rappin' and praying Ice Spice go back to munchies
Yeah, vision inspires and leadership keeps
Poor directions where loyalty leaks
They get quiet when royalty speaks
I don't care who on first as long as we eat
If Jimmy Jay, I'm cool with Bleek
If I'm Ross, he cool with Meek
Get on and share the keys to the Lox with ease
Living chic, we can go ghost
Kiss goodbye to p', motherfucker
Warriors die
Is you ready to die?
There's so much on my mind
Is you ready to die?
Kiss your ass goodbye
Orca Sound Records
Smashing grapes in my Bottegas
Tryna take me out my grace I'll send you to them high places
Versace bed sheets I sleep in all designer labels
I don't do the runways
Only runway is when I fly the plane
Expensive habits
I drape my body in expensive fabrics
My Uda hold the big twelve like March Madness
My broad Spanish
She in the Bronx stashing
Work inside the Nail Salon
Her ass fat and her hair is long
I smoke cigars
I'm wavy baby like the Coast Guards
Exotic cars
This Mozart meets Ozark
I'm peeping game
You lil pups need coaching dog
I'm star status
Smoke in designer man that's high fashion
I'm at the Mondrian I toll the clerks to hold my baggage
I need the horse and carriage
I don't need divorce or marriage
I need 100 acres with the Porsche in front the Mansion
I'm not in danger
I am danger
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, huh?
Come here, come here
Who the fuck do you think you're talking to?
Uncle Larry
You pussies can't share my air
Walk a mile in a pair I wear
And I'm getting better year by year
And I'm still right here
Ain't taking people to the top that hate to see me there
Listen, I don't know no fucking Kianna
I leave the phone unlocked so when she acting like Madonna
She can see that I got options
I don't really need the drama
Plenty fish up in the sea, but these bitches is some piranhas
Wine pouring in my suite
Rick Owens on my feet
Cashmere on my skin while Sinatra bumping on my speaks
Fly to Paris for a week
Tokyo for the steez
Diamonds help me freeze so I shine when I'm in Belize
Upper East Side living
Butler in the kitchen
Double R stitching complements my ambition
Rolls, no Lincoln
Park Ave, Minkin'
Left hand on the phone, right pinky ring on her kitten
You thought your man's real till shit got real
Now it's a gender reveal
Pink blood spilled
You otter tell nobody
Keep your lips sealed
Or get your cap peeled back from the scratch steel
Labels labeled me difficult because they couldn't fuck me
Same people got laid off, turned into junkies
Man, they used to duck me
Now they want to suck me
Asking for a job
Industry is getting ugly
I dropped the country album
I ain't even fucking country
Then Post Malone went and put the cunt in the country
Closing doors, took my passport, and left the country
Back to rappin' and praying Ice Spice go back to munchies
Yeah, vision inspires and leadership keeps
Poor directions where loyalty leaks
They get quiet when royalty speaks
I don't care who on first as long as we eat
If Jimmy Jay, I'm cool with Bleek
If I'm Ross, he cool with Meek
Get on and share the keys to the Lox with ease
Living chic, we can go ghost
Kiss goodbye to p', motherfucker
Warriors die
Is you ready to die?
There's so much on my mind
Is you ready to die?
Kiss your ass goodbye
Orca Sound Records
