Lyrics

(I'm shoppin' with Mills, baby)

Married my hustle, came up out the slums, we eloped with it

Mama, look, your favorite son a big dope dealer

Told me pick something I'm good at, a trophy

The metric-ton load, safe to say that I'm dope with it (no assumptions)

I ain't thinkin', I know it, cartel where I'm goin'

The fedora brim had a bend, had the shirt button bust open

Tatted up bad, complemented my swag

I'm a bricklayer, chick give a glance, I'ma fuck on her

Find out my partner wan' tap, I can't love on her

Simple, you get in your feelings and cuff on her

On this holy divine day, I hereby manifest

The big-body, all-black Range Rover Autobiography SV

With the brains blowed out, with the yellow calibers

The same energy in the universe is the same energy in me

And with that energy, I command it to be

(I'm right here where I'm supposed to be)

...

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