Drip (feat. Spock) Lyrics

Lemme tell you 'bout the drip (Yeah)

I'm at the function uninvited, rocking all designer shit (Facts)

I'm sitting on a Louis throne wearing Gucci toe socks, staring at a sea of TJ Maxx, ah

I got the Fendi carabiner on the water bottle (Water)

Balenciaga looking wavy on my squash goggles (Squash)

You got a satchel for your stash, that's a fad, I spend a couple grand cash on the Gucci mousepad

Yellow diamonds on my china plates, uh

VVS on my retainer case, uh

Fendi razor when I shave my face

I got the Versace doorbell - welcome to my place

And there's a pool in the back

Got haters looking sad when they peep the 'Berry swim cap

That's no cap got the Givenchy right on my back

And underneath the Amiri pants I rock a Gucci jockstrap

Wait, what's up?



Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)

Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Don't flip)

Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)

Got the Louis V beat and the Fendi ad-lib

Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)

Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (doesn't flip)

Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)

Got the Louis V beat and the Fendi ad-lib



You see the fit, everything I'm rocking handmade

I got this Amish bitch she making daddy marmalade

We raisin' sheep all in the back that's how I'm making suede

And I never pay for Timberlands 'cause that's my trade

That new whip, cracking, smacking that horse ass

My woodgrain wagon so old fashioned I make it go fast

Your girl asked me to plow her fields 'cause she know you won't

She into animals, 'cause she fucking with the G.O.A.T

My back hurting churning dope (Whip it, whip it)

We in the soil growing smoke (We deal it, deal it)

She going numb off my strokes (She want it, want it)

Organic yogurt in the throat

Drip so hard my Louis sweater moist

My dick two-tone, call it a Phantom Royce

I'm only fucking with designer 'roids

I'm balling out not like them other broke boys



Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)

Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Lemme tell you)

Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)

Got the Louis V beat and the Fendi ad-lib

Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('Bout the drip)

Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (Lemme tell you)

Gucci gun, Margiela clip (Margiela clip)

I got the Louis V beat and the Fendi ad-lib



Ooh, I got that Louis V on

I got that Louis V on

You got that Louis V on, know I'm fucking with that Gucci

You know I'm fucking with that Louis

Oh, and I'm gonna drown in that booty

And now I'm fucking with your bitch in some Gucci