Released: November 5, 2018
Songwriter: Capo (GBE)
Producer: Chief Keef
[Chorus]
All that bitch wanted was a Birkin bag
I'm tryna get rich with my working ass
Never start crying, never stop working
So hit the email, put them beats in the dirt
When I pull up on them forgis, I know I left my guys hurt
I wouldn’t have done that if they didn't snake me first
Almighty paved the way for Chicaglo
He told me "stay up off them blocks", I couldn't if I tried to
[Verse]
I remember kick the bobos, keep it real nigga
I’m some rapper, but I stay up in the field nigga
I can't hear myself, so I rather keep it real with ya
And I ain't snoozing like that, ain't popping pills with ya
When I came though in that Porsche, on your face
American boy, American car, Americans boys are starting to race
This shit fucked up that all the American boys are starting to hate
There's some dead presidents in my pocket, I'm spending it all today
Why? 'cause I don't give no fuck
I’ma make it back we tearing up venues and them clubs
And I get cash from my shows, girl your man he getting slugs
And every time I’m on this mic look I do this shit for Blood
[Chorus]
All that bitch wanted was a Birkin bag
I'm tryna get rich with my working ass
Never start crying, never stop working
So hit the email, put them beats in the dirt
When I pull up on them forgis, I know I left my guys hurt
I wouldn’t have done that if they didn't snake me first
Almighty paved the way for Chicaglo
He told me "stay up off them blocks", I couldn't if I tried to
All that bitch wanted was a Birkin bag
I'm tryna get rich with my working ass
Never start crying, never stop working
So hit the email, put them beats in the dirt
When I pull up on them forgis, I know I left my guys hurt
I wouldn’t have done that if they didn't snake me first
Almighty paved the way for Chicaglo
He told me "stay up off them blocks", I couldn't if I tried to
[Verse]
I remember kick the bobos, keep it real nigga
I’m some rapper, but I stay up in the field nigga
I can't hear myself, so I rather keep it real with ya
And I ain't snoozing like that, ain't popping pills with ya
When I came though in that Porsche, on your face
American boy, American car, Americans boys are starting to race
This shit fucked up that all the American boys are starting to hate
There's some dead presidents in my pocket, I'm spending it all today
Why? 'cause I don't give no fuck
I’ma make it back we tearing up venues and them clubs
And I get cash from my shows, girl your man he getting slugs
And every time I’m on this mic look I do this shit for Blood
[Chorus]
All that bitch wanted was a Birkin bag
I'm tryna get rich with my working ass
Never start crying, never stop working
So hit the email, put them beats in the dirt
When I pull up on them forgis, I know I left my guys hurt
I wouldn’t have done that if they didn't snake me first
Almighty paved the way for Chicaglo
He told me "stay up off them blocks", I couldn't if I tried to