"Manicures On Board" lyrics
Takashi Murakami Louis duffel
Girl I truly loved you, thats till you broke my heart that's cupid shuffle
I'm buggin' cause I could've fucked your friend instead
Girl I'm ballin' I even gave you that nutmeg
Crazy, but good riddance
I nutted in mouths I should've pissed in
Wrist on Sonny Liston
Margiela tux on this day of Christmas
Only hard dick is what my bitch is getting
Valentino summers all my Jeeps is Hummers
Fred designing on my sheets and covers when I sleep with women
Don't invite me over to your pity party switch the Cartis to the Gaultiers
My boat is at the Chelsea Pier, girl this happens every year
It's very clear You only want me for them new Bottegas bought you every pair
Got them diamonds on me looking like a chandelier
I call my piece to David Blaine and make him disappear
Grrrrrrrrttttt
Balling like the Harlem Globe, I'm in the Hall of Fame
Took the bitch to Starbucks cause I forgot her name
Turnin' up my hustles, how I give myself a raise
Got the perfect aim, they think it's luck I did it again
Cruising off into the sunrise, in a Porsche 911 with the bug eyes
New Prada lenses, you can't see a thug cry
My favorite rapper overdosed because his buzz died
I learned my lesson, fans ain't gon' love you forever, man they all gon' exit
Ain't nothing worse than being famous, broke on IG flexing
You know what we call that shit, silent depression
Yeah, and I'm doing what I'm supposed to
Say she bisexual, well, girl, I'm bicoastal
Stuntin' on the gram like, always on your socials
Say she got a man, but he don't ever post you
Haha, how you say you got a man but he don't post you?
I turned Times Square into my living room
Billboards everywhere, look like a photo booth
Like Joe Pesci in Home Alone with the golden tooth
I wanted a big crib with the swimming pool
My son a shooter like Carmelo
Cayenne the Porsche, the exterior marshmallow
A harsh fellow, as I dodge devils, I'm God-level
Gemstones in my tombstone, Imma die rebel
New Bottega fabric, she love lyin', so I copped the mattress
Acting like she love me, but she a bad actress
Me and Gash go way back, since high school mathematics
Who would've thought we'd drop class to drop classics
On a 747 on our way to Paris
Carry-ons only, girl, you weigh too much baggage
Manicures on board, diamonds in my glasses
Watching Godfather Carlo crying and we laughing
Yeah, we laughing, plane touchdown, go shopping
And I Raf it, Rockstar, Rolling Stone, watch me Mick Jag it
Back to Arizona, 200 in an Aston
Got 50 on the wrist, 100 on my neck
That's your whole whip, that painting on my wall That's your whole crib, I just bought
A yacht on the toilet I'm the shit
Come on, man
Girl I truly loved you, thats till you broke my heart that's cupid shuffle
I'm buggin' cause I could've fucked your friend instead
Girl I'm ballin' I even gave you that nutmeg
Crazy, but good riddance
I nutted in mouths I should've pissed in
Wrist on Sonny Liston
Margiela tux on this day of Christmas
Only hard dick is what my bitch is getting
Valentino summers all my Jeeps is Hummers
Fred designing on my sheets and covers when I sleep with women
Don't invite me over to your pity party switch the Cartis to the Gaultiers
My boat is at the Chelsea Pier, girl this happens every year
It's very clear You only want me for them new Bottegas bought you every pair
Got them diamonds on me looking like a chandelier
I call my piece to David Blaine and make him disappear
Grrrrrrrrttttt
Balling like the Harlem Globe, I'm in the Hall of Fame
Took the bitch to Starbucks cause I forgot her name
Turnin' up my hustles, how I give myself a raise
Got the perfect aim, they think it's luck I did it again
Cruising off into the sunrise, in a Porsche 911 with the bug eyes
New Prada lenses, you can't see a thug cry
My favorite rapper overdosed because his buzz died
I learned my lesson, fans ain't gon' love you forever, man they all gon' exit
Ain't nothing worse than being famous, broke on IG flexing
You know what we call that shit, silent depression
Yeah, and I'm doing what I'm supposed to
Say she bisexual, well, girl, I'm bicoastal
Stuntin' on the gram like, always on your socials
Say she got a man, but he don't ever post you
Haha, how you say you got a man but he don't post you?
I turned Times Square into my living room
Billboards everywhere, look like a photo booth
Like Joe Pesci in Home Alone with the golden tooth
I wanted a big crib with the swimming pool
My son a shooter like Carmelo
Cayenne the Porsche, the exterior marshmallow
A harsh fellow, as I dodge devils, I'm God-level
Gemstones in my tombstone, Imma die rebel
New Bottega fabric, she love lyin', so I copped the mattress
Acting like she love me, but she a bad actress
Me and Gash go way back, since high school mathematics
Who would've thought we'd drop class to drop classics
On a 747 on our way to Paris
Carry-ons only, girl, you weigh too much baggage
Manicures on board, diamonds in my glasses
Watching Godfather Carlo crying and we laughing
Yeah, we laughing, plane touchdown, go shopping
And I Raf it, Rockstar, Rolling Stone, watch me Mick Jag it
Back to Arizona, 200 in an Aston
Got 50 on the wrist, 100 on my neck
That's your whole whip, that painting on my wall That's your whole crib, I just bought
A yacht on the toilet I'm the shit
Come on, man
