[Hook]
Them bally loafers's and them Cartiers

I do my thing Penny Hardaway
And if you're knowing where we're going
Then you'll probably be coming with us! (x2)

[Verse 1: Chuck Inglish]
Friday night nice, Saturday sharp
Edge upon the hairline, side tapered and ball

Sunday winning in the linen shorts sent from the mall
Pieces out the dry cleaning stitched seams and all
That glitters ain't gold but this is

Cars hopin in them
Mars spike editions at the palace like the Pistons
Peep the way I flipped it

The color on this one is like them other ones
But these colors compliment it
You might wanna catch that later alligator

Maury I had another color way before they made it
Cordless phones on them like it's free activation
For them homes you wouldend up in the lab for it

Championship rings wrap bills in jeans fabrics
Since we spend .?. these ropes like tennis rackets
Tennis braclets Andre Agassi tennis shoes and jackets

Cardier frames and bally's
[Hook x2]
I tilt my woods up, slide them up the bridge of my nose

Them Guccis cool, but they are not originals
Those are like digital clocks
Mind shots riddle the block â??till it moves up, .?

What a loop scooper troopers and khaki suit blazers
And my braclets do a loop and my wrist like a race, Wait!
We ain't say grace

We at Shaw's Crab House
Everybody got a lobster on their plate
I get a nice fade, nice waves, wait a minute

Slice gang, chop it up, slap chop, I'm saying!
You can't know the roster without playin'
I'm not Kevin Cosner I'm not dancing with no wolves

Acting like they should, Peep the .?. Don hoping out that Jeep
Man the tassels on them Bally's, checkers on the Rally's
Saying “I don't think they got it like in Cali”

[Hook x2]
In my years I sported igloos, Alaskan Ice
The light bulbs in my jewels show off in the night

So stay back, star's flow is toxic
You can catch me in my rolls heavy
.?


Photoshoots in the Sahara Desert Camels and Cardiers
In the sky facing the half-moon crescent

Wow, it looks beautiful
The stars is praising me
And The Cool Kids, say something wrong they'll shoot at you

They shootin' stars these ruthless bars got white girls holding their mouths
Like, “oh my God! No he didn't”, give him a bib, cause he keeps spitting
Lines that's so cold where every word's frost-bitten

And his man's pulling up in the Maybach
White linen ,three quarter rope, bally's from way back
With Cardier frames, white gold all around the rim

Holding their dicks in the club, .?
[Hook x2]