Lyrics Clark Kent - Veyster

I don't give a fuck about no money, cuz I keep it comin
I can teach you niggas how to step, cuz I've been really stompin
That nigga ain't lit for real, he ain't really poppin
I just ate for free at Benihana, in Balenciaga

High as hell, niggas steady splurgin
I just made a purchase
Niggas actin' like they don't know about Veyster, I just tell them search me
I ain't wanna give your ass my heart, cuz I thought you would hurt me

Lyin' to em', I tell all these hoes, I'm a fuckin' virgin
Keep relapsin' on the drugs, tell my brodie to chill out on Perky's

I would've been put you on my song, but I ain't see the purpose
Lately, I been focused on my bag, nigga, I been workin'
Talkin' shit behind the screen, but don't say shit to me when we in person
They don't ever press P
Smokin' gas straight out the bow

I'll be high till next week
Baby I just want the throat
I need you to neck me
I ain't trippin' off no hoes, I just need my check, please

That money comin' in, that shit don't stop, I need it all
She gon' throw that ass and I'm gon' catch it every time it fall
Why when shit pop off, they always say our names like we involved
By the time I drop that vette, I hope they free my fuckin' dog

I had them niggas sick when I popped out with dog shit
Bitch, I swear to God, if I can make some shake, we all rich
Ain't think I could save the day, I made a play like Clark Kent
Niggas tryna hate on Vey, but that message was not sent

Asta slide right in your bitch, DM, Asta la Vista
Then I see you act like I don't know about you, nice to meet you
"Oh, I heard you like my music, you a fan, you wanna feature?"
I'ma tax your ass then feed your bitch the semen, then I'll leave it
Nigga, I hope you don't think your ass a saint, I hang with demons

I can't up a roll, the white folks got my shit behind the cement
Locked in with the gang, ain't no switchin', ain't no leachin
You say you ain't got a bag, well I'm like, nigga, I can teach you
I ain't trippin' bout the distance, I'm tryna hit all states

Niggas drop the coverage, I just sent it home like Tom Brady
You wanna get on my song, I'm like, "fuck you, nigga, pay me"
Heard you wanna make a bag, come over here, that shit contagious