Holy Moly (Explicit)

Nah come on T man

Not even chatting to these bruddas man

They're boys man baby boys

Still got Oysters and that

Not even oyster for petrols

Time's different on their wrists

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad like holy moly

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad

Yeah f**k it I'm a selfish prick

Stacking I go getting rich

Rocking YSL and s**t

You in the ghetto getting nicked

Champagne glasses in the whip

Moses told me that it's lit

I've got makeup on my dick

Holy cow holy s**t

Wore no collars when we met

Make up stories in their heads

When this morning made some eggs

For your bae in my bed

I have things but not success

I got steaks and overheads

Closed mouths don't get fed

Boy you tired go to bed

I'm alive and I'm a ledge

You're alive so why you dead

Imhotep in the flesh

Boujee bastard in the flesh

Niggas say it with their chest

I just say it then it's pressed

'Raris in the SLS

Parties in the SLS

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad like holy moly

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad

I'm-I'm-I'm-I'm a f**king nervous wreck

God I hate these sycophants

Everything that's in my head

Sound like Kanye when he raps

I don't do this for my 'Gram

I don't do this for no bants

Why you tweeting me this s**t

You ain't f**king relevant

Someone tell 'em that I'm woke

Someone tell 'em that he's broke

Someone tell 'em that

The boy done seen a mill at 24

In Australia for a show

You in Shoreditch doing coke

I got a mac by five guys

Anyone can get this smoke

Yeah yeah yeah yeah

Kings all in my lineage

No trace no witness

Pray to god for forgiveness

Lambo all tinted

The kids all know the plate

Chicks go all the way

It's one phone call away

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad like holy moly

Oh my god look at my Roley

Look at my squad

I'm a boss

In a Porsche

It's very posh

Too much sauce

Too much sauce

And my house is like my exes

Too much sauce

My Lamborghini

It look like Jaws

That's not a Roley

It's Michael Kors

Too much sauce

You best run back to your older boy

I know young Gs is gon' facetime

If they wil' out like Soulja boy

Like rah