CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Blue
(Perfect 10)
We be countin' up all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad b*t*h, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night, on my off-night
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Yeah, run up, it's gon' look like an off light)
sh*t gettin' dim, four iPhones, ain't no SIMs
Eighty-five hundred on rims, my spot look like the Sims, yeah (Like the Sims)
Gucci gram costs lots of loot
I get mouth while I got your boo
I blow exotic out the roof
Louis pants, they match the coupe
You the type to go in store, ask what's the best they could do, that's what I don't do
All this sh*t no favor, ain't no IOU
And I keep a stick, it won't be me, it's gon' be Y-O-U
You mad 'cause the David Yurman on my b*t*h, not on you
All that exotic a flower force, I'm at Fontainebleau, b*t*h new
Boy, that lean was fake, all he heard was, "I'm good"
Better not get to close to me in traffic, I pop your hood
b*t*h gon' get too wet for me, a napkin won't do no good
I'm not worried 'bout nothin' ain't gon' happen when in your hood
Four-door sedan sittin' in sand, need to be washed by hand
b*t*h want bags look better than Birkins, gotta be made by hand, yeah
Two hundred grand in all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad b*t*h, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White (My b*t*h must've hopped out in Off-White)
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night (Got twenty grand gone on my off-night)
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Richie Bux)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy
I might just hop out in all chrome, yeah, ayy
Leave me a thug at the crossroads, needles, sweats
Boy, I'll leave a whole clip in your vest, yeah
That boy like Bron when I go with the best
You put me to sleep, I needed some rest
Put me to sleep, I needed some rest
Yeah, f**k with the drank, I needed that Tech
Can you place your order to burden the next
She prayin' for me, but I think it's a hex, yeah
I'm f**kin' with Virgil and Christian Dior
If you bust a play, we walk in the store, b*t*h, yeah
Ayy
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
We be countin' up all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad b*t*h, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night, on my off-night
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Yeah, run up, it's gon' look like an off light)
sh*t gettin' dim, four iPhones, ain't no SIMs
Eighty-five hundred on rims, my spot look like the Sims, yeah (Like the Sims)
Gucci gram costs lots of loot
I get mouth while I got your boo
I blow exotic out the roof
Louis pants, they match the coupe
You the type to go in store, ask what's the best they could do, that's what I don't do
All this sh*t no favor, ain't no IOU
And I keep a stick, it won't be me, it's gon' be Y-O-U
You mad 'cause the David Yurman on my b*t*h, not on you
All that exotic a flower force, I'm at Fontainebleau, b*t*h new
Boy, that lean was fake, all he heard was, "I'm good"
Better not get to close to me in traffic, I pop your hood
b*t*h gon' get too wet for me, a napkin won't do no good
I'm not worried 'bout nothin' ain't gon' happen when in your hood
Four-door sedan sittin' in sand, need to be washed by hand
b*t*h want bags look better than Birkins, gotta be made by hand, yeah
Two hundred grand in all hundreds, and they gotta be blue (Gotta be new)
I stay with a bad b*t*h, yeah, that gotta be true (Gotta be true)
I must've hopped out in Off-White (My b*t*h must've hopped out in Off-White)
I got twenty grand gone on my off-night (Got twenty grand gone on my off-night)
Run up, it's gon' look like an off light (Richie Bux)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, ayy
I might just hop out in all chrome, yeah, ayy
Leave me a thug at the crossroads, needles, sweats
Boy, I'll leave a whole clip in your vest, yeah
That boy like Bron when I go with the best
You put me to sleep, I needed some rest
Put me to sleep, I needed some rest
Yeah, f**k with the drank, I needed that Tech
Can you place your order to burden the next
She prayin' for me, but I think it's a hex, yeah
I'm f**kin' with Virgil and Christian Dior
If you bust a play, we walk in the store, b*t*h, yeah
Ayy
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
Highest eleven, the closest to Heaven
