AINT GOT ME

Lyrics

[Intro] (Ooh, Rell) Yeah What I gotta do? Uh (Yeah) Never (Yeah, want you to) [Chorus] How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you? Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you? I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves I'm so sick and tired of these niggas lookin' like clowns and they fresh Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex Tryna find another nigga like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet) Nigga asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet [Verse 1] Wear the same shit every day, nigga, I can't even joke with you This Louis bubble cost me 6K, bought this bitch on a bad day So I don't get wet in the rain I'm wearin' Rick Owens (I'm wearin' Rick Owens) Spread my money up my arm A designer must be watchin' me 'cause my angels is farm She be puttin' that shit on while she listenin' to all my songs Every time I put on that Marni, shit, I can never do no wrong I can never play a two-tone, this new opp pack kind of strong I ain't gon' lie, man, the set gotta deal with me (Deal with me) If you fuckin' a nigga, I just ask you be real with me When I'm out of town, she be shoppin', I tell her just sit in the build with me Gettin' money like a skill to me, I'm so fresh, she'll kill for me [Chorus] How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you? Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you? I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves I'm so sick and tired of these niggas lookin' like clowns and they fresh Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex Tryna find another nigga like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet) Nigga asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet [Verse 2] Drive fast in a Hellcat, I don't know where I'm goin' Think the feds tapped my phone, I live in a million-dollar home I fuck her from the back on my throne You know I'm dripped in designer every time I go to sleep She dripped in designer too, she give a fuck about shit more than me Supercharger on that Tesla, they flick me, I'ma keep goin' I got a Chrome Heart shirt on, I got my heart on my arm Every time I ask her how she feel, she say she could feel it in her soul I could never trust no ho, I've been backdoored, I've been bro'ed (Backdoored by the bros) Really, I'm low on love, got nothin' to give (I'm so low) All I got is this drank and pills, she thinkin' 'bout me, I'm thinkin' 'bout a million All young nigga come and shoot, he say it's score, we gon' open a seal I just chose me over you, she can't even believe it's you [Chorus] How many times I gotta say these hoes ain't got me like you? Tell me what I gotta do to prove I really like you? I could put you in Christian Dior and Emilio Pucci I took you up and ride with me around the shoes moves I'm so sick and tired of these niggas lookin' like clowns and they fresh Got money and can't even dress, I'm thinkin' 'bout racks, she thinkin' 'bout sex Tryna find another nigga like me, she ain't even found him yet (She ain't even found him yet) Nigga asked me what kind of shoes I'm wearin'? He ain't even found 'em yet [Outro] What I gotta do, uh? Emilio Pucci, I took you—