[Lyric] Tommys House / L.V. Duffle Bag (Whassup Whoadie)

[Verse 1]
Money sealed by vacuum; spend like I’m in KOD’s backroom
I’m with shorty on her born day
I stay sharp; she for swordplay
Some type of soirée in a house looking like Tommy’s, help her out the S-Class doorway
That’s too tough, but I do this
If it’s a problem, keep it movin’
I like Stella McCartney solutions and your bitch gon’ get recruited
Yeah, she surely gonna fuck for some Dior, yeah, I’m certain of it
Sprinter van leather seat decor where I’m cervix bustin’
Twin sisters bedded, but I see four; it’s me versus nothin’
It’s a wrap when shе wanna see more after I purchase somеthin’
Fuck it, I’m 4L for my brothers
Franchise player; I ain’t never envied another
I like G-Wagen movin’
Prescription drug consumin’ so I feel less human

[Pre-Verse]
Yes, sir

[Verse 2]
Me and AT Jay and Dame in ‘96 (Six)
Yeah, my ceiling changing; watch it leave like it’s dismissed
Oh, I feel like Tracy; 13,000 thrown so quick
Oh, I feel like lately it’s been fuck being in the mix
Bad bitch, drop my location
Me and her friend get friendly while waitin’
I’m activated, going apeshit
Ain’t no buster in my game, bitch (In my game)
It’s been fuck everyone since the jump; that’s the protocol (The protocol)
Toss my Louis duffle in the trunk of my four-door car (Foreign car)
I ain’t never killed ‘em soft, nah, I’m ‘bout homicide
Always keep my roster tight; the rest of you ain’t on my side
The rest of you all bark, no bite
I’m dressed in new Palm Angels slides
And, right now, my walk-through is fittin' to cost you what I drove tonight (Damn)
I’m Tracy Morgan on Martin (Da-da-damn)
That mean I’m hustlin’ like I’m starvin’ (Let's go)
I mean I’m mean; I told you once
Money’s been clean for like a month (A mo-a month)
Still can’t bring out all the funds
They always wanna piece of what I does
Sweatsuit; I don’t sweat shit (Uh-oh)
Truck stay black; I don’t set trip (Uh-uh)
I cannot relax, I’m restless (Uh-huh)
Whole life one big entrance (Let's go)