Designer Remix

LETRA

Designer Remix

[Intro: Blac Youngsta]
Look at your lil’ bitch ass
Haha
I, I could see, I could see the motherfuckin’
Hate through your motherfuckin’ eyes, boy
Don’t wanna look at your ass when I talk to you
I know you a hater

I could see your whole motherfuckin’ future
I’ma, let me, I’m finna tell you what you gonna be
Shit, you ain’t got shit
You ain’t gon’ never have shit, you ain’t gon’ be shit
God told me (?)

[Chorus: Lil Pump]
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish bitches butt naked and they twerkin’ on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

[Verse 1: Lil Pump]
Drive the ‘Rari off the lot, f*** my wrist up with the pot
Bitch, this shit will never stop (brr), presidential on the clock
Couple hoes up on a yacht, I can not f*** with the opps
Bitch, I made it to the top, go to class, I’m on the drop, ayy

Went to the gun store and I bought a rocket (ooh)
One million dollars, cash hangin’ out my pocket (damn)
All these diamonds drippin’ on me, feelin’ like a water faucet
Broke niggas hatin’ on me, man, this shit need to stop it

Lil Pump the freshest ni*** comin’ out my city
Hit AOD’s and I’m blowin’ straight fifties (brr)
In the kitchen whippin’ Whitney, sippin’ lean, I lost my kidney
Ain’t nobody fuckin’ with me off the Xan’, I squeeze a titty, ayy

Dropped out of school, hopped in a private jet (brr)
Bitch, I’m on the lean, I can’t pop no Percocet (no)
I got more money than your father, you can’t be upset
I’m worth a couple millions, bitch, you know I love to flex

[Chorus: Lil Pump]
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish bitches butt naked and they twerkin’ on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

[Verse 2: Blac Youngsta]
All that fuckin’ talkin’, you gon’ make me hop out (hop out)
If you not talkin’ money, you gon’ make me walk out (walk out)
I tote real guns, I don’t bring no prop out (props)
You can’t go to war with me and try to cop out (cop)

I run over all my bitches and they still love me (gang)
I break bread with all my niggas, they’ll kill for me (grr)
Grandma told me pull my britches up, I’m still thuggin’ (grr)
I been crossed, had to cut off some of my real cousins (gang gang)

All this money I spent on a jet, coulda bought you and you and you (you)
All this money I spent on my neck, coulda sent you and you to school (school)
I got a house bigger than Elvis, got some foreign cars too (too)
Rest in peace Mr. Hugh Hef’, I f*** porn stars too (too), ooh

[Bridge: Blac Youngsta]
Gang gang gang, ooh, yeah
Ayy, ayy, ayy, Zaytoven, huh
Run that, run that motherfuckin’ hook back, ha
Me, me, me, me and Pump just cooked that, ooh, yeah

[Chorus: Lil Pump]
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish bitches butt naked and they twerkin’ on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

[Verse 3: Rich The Kid]
Break the brick, I shipped it, wrapped it in saran (break it down)
Ooh, all my niggas trappin’ (trap), we ain’t have a plan (rich)
Ayy, plug walk on that pu*** ’cause your bitch a fan (plug walk, lil’ bitch)
Ooh, you ain’t got no money, go and get some bands (go get some bands)

Ayy, racin’ Lil Pump, I just pulled out the Lamb (skrrt, skrrt)
Huh, I got the blue chips (blue chips), Zay told me don’t take (?) (huh)
I’m droppin’ her off, she a groupie (groupie)
Don’t worry, my shooters they shootin’ (grra)

I got fast cars (cars)
Foreign broad, superstar (foreign)
This a push start (push)
She wake up, eat the dick up, Pop-Tart (like a Pop-Tart)
Ooh, I gotta flex on ’em
Young ni*** walk around with a check on ’em (check)

‘Rari, not the Jag (Jag) pinky ring a bag (what)
I got fast cars (cars) speed racer, it’s a NASCAR (a NASCAR)
Ayy, Bentley off the lot, I do the dash, boy (I do the dash, boy)
Ooh, boy your mixtape, throw that in the trash, boy (in the trash, boy)
I just fuc*** your bitch because she asked for it (rich)

[Chorus: Lil Pump]
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Spanish bitches butt naked and they twerkin’ on the stove
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold

I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
I got fast cars, bad bitches and designer clothes
Couple thousand on my wrist and my neck is on froze
Too much racks in my pocket that my wallet can’t fold