Fresh Outta London

J-J-Joey
 I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends
 Only here to make M's, call when the check in
 I don't like partial, need the whole backend
 Fresh outta London, she still got an accent
 The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
 If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
 I got me a bad bitch, the cover on Maxim
 The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah
 The wrist is flooded
 No competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit
 I'm lit, they know it
 They wanna hate on the music, but I'm makin' hits
 These hundreds, I throw 'em
 I need like 80 a show, that's some minimum shit
 I leave the house, and I'm wearin' some shit you can't get
 And I swear this shit cost like a brick
 I've been runnin' up M's all week, I'm a vet
 Quick trip for the bag, fell asleep on a jet
 On a different time, this an Audemars Piguet
 See eight bad bitches like the brand new 'Vette (skrrt)
 We gon' get 'em all, why the fuck would I stress?
 Think I need rehab, I'm addicted to a check
 And she gon' say it's love, but she know I want the sex
 Bitch, don't you dare leave a hickey on my neck
 'Cause the Cullinan massage my back, I'm stressed (I'm stressed)
 Stars in the roof get the bitch undressed
 With an ass like that, I forget my ex (haha)
 Racks like this meant that God, I'm blessed
 I been on top, I should beat my chest
 Tell you that she loyal, we gon' put her to the test
 Wanna lose your bitch? Well, then be my guest
 'Cause I been real cold in this Moncler vest
 I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends
 Only here to make M's, call when the check in
 I don't like partial, need the whole backend
 Fresh outta London, she still got an accent
 The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas
 If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him
 I got me a bad bitch, the cover on Maxim
 The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah
 The wrist is flooded
 No competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit
 I'm lit, they know it
 They wanna hate on the music, but I'm makin' hits
 These hundreds, I throw 'em
 I need like 80 a show, that's some minimum shit
 I leave the house, and I'm wearin' some shit you can't get
 And I swear this shit cost like a brick