Lyrics Judgment - ian

(It's holiday season, bitch)
What the f-?
What the f-?

Huh, brand new Margiela, same color a salmon
I done bought that bag for her, hoe gon' throw a tantrum
Two pounds of gas on me, I smell like the Chevron
I done dropped a bag on it, where you think that ass from?

Huh, brand-new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage

But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw your hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain you

Huh, same kid with the same high
I just spent yo' damn crib on a plain watch
Bottega frames, we don't see the same sights
Two hoes at the same time, I couldn't pick my fave' one

But when that day come, we gon' pay the same price
You out your damn mind, you ever try that back talk
I drive this car like I'm beefin' with the asphalt
You play my guy, that's some shit that I can't laugh off

Huh, brand-new season, not the last one
He don't mean it, he just act tough
They don't care how long it took to run yo' bag up
Damn right, I'm high as hell, that's how I manage

But I hope just one more blunt gon' show some answers
Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up
You too close to that line to throw yo' hands up
I'm too damn filthy rich to entertain you

Can't get upset, she likes me better when I'm passive
I'm gon' pass this 'cause I got pounds on top of pounds, uh
I'm not past this, but I keep actin' like it's fine
When I'm tired of it, you're a massive waste of time for me

Even though it's gon' be hard, you gotta man up (I couldn't pick my fave')
Too close to that line to throw yo' hands up, uh