Party wit Pop Smoke

Ayo, you couldn't keep score, Patek Phillipe wars (ah)
 My niggas stare at Rugers
 Gucci bit off Iceberg shit, I still copped the Mickey
 Pissy elevators, hand in hand, I wore Issey, Lord, forgive me
 Fashion Week, I gave 'em headstarts to Mississippi (brr, brr, brr)
 Submachine guns, somebody fucked him, brains hangin' off the frame
 Blood on the Salvatore Mundi, we rock cocaine (ah)
 Tie-dye Dior floss, stickin' niggas up at Christie's
 Eugene Delacroixs for half price, leather strings and Rickys
 Ain't no eye for eye, you take an eye
 We take your whole head (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
 Shoppin' sprees at galleries, Lafayette, come here let's hold hands
 Baggin' at the Mandarin
 They can't take the drip, Balenciaga mannequin
 Pots dancin' with the grams of fish, whip game scandalous (ah)
 My heart got a thousand shadows on it
 His brain had a lead hollow in it
 Bloodbaths under the moonlight
 Spill his guts when the time is right
 Valentino for his favorite whore, homicidal couture
 Vintage Mizrahi in the streets of Paris
 Violence lingers inside me
 Extortion fills my bon appetit
 Hog tie him, make him watch a nigga nut in his wife
 He started to cry
 I kissed his cheek, then drove the icepick in his eye
 And one call will have a girl scout on your granddaddy's porch
 'Cause of death is heart attack on the coroner's report
 If he got a felony, it's guaranteed to excite me
 Gun and drug charges give me butterflies
 Evil as Satan, but I see God all in his eyes
 Ayo, it's Westside Pootie
 And my Lamborghini got a backseat, and y'all drive rentals
 In other words, get your weight up
 Y'all still broke
 Oh, yeah, and stop copyin' off my daddy, too
 It's Griselda
 Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda...