Mr. T

Brrr!
 ♪
 Ayo
 ♪
 Ayo
 Nike MAGS glow when I tip toe
 Fuck you mean? I been dope
 Half my shooters sniff coke
 With no aim, we better get low
 Tackma Lettermans with a TEC in it
 Feed fuck niggas rope, go put ya neck in it
 Got my troops in off-white boots
 Pulled up, I had my foot hangin' out the coupe
 Off white flannel lookin' like a lumberjack
 Wit the .30 poppin', you don't want none of that
 Dsquared apron over these squares
 Ronnie Fieg, I need size 9 in every pair
 Do a nigga filthy for the right price
 Dom Pérignon, the lobster and fried rice
 One brick, one brick
 All I need is one brick
 ♪
 Ayo, drive-bys out of Teslas, scrape the pots for the extras
 Bodies dropping on the regular
 Run laps around these other rap niggas for fun
 At Fashion week with the M1, y'all niggas bums
 Killer designer, a serial killer
 Niggas thought I was just rhymin' iller
 Then I pulled out the stick, run ya jewels, run the money
 You tried to run and hopped the fence
 Tore his back up like junior nigga, filthy rich, wash my sins with Ace
 Allahu Akbar, all this work is flake
 I'ma be fly forever if the stove work
 She sniffin' so much molly, that bitch nose hurt
 I was on the path, getting money on the ave
 Fiends Milly Rock, they seeing that my work glass
 If shit slow up, I'ma look prettier in a mask
 The cracks in the chip bag, the MAC by the trash
 The .45 look big on his forehead
 Shot him more times, left that nigga more dead
 
 One brick, one brick
 All I need is one brick