Pull up and I'm chilling with Loiro
In the Studio eating some Oreos
When I hear the beat yeah I'm feeling glorious
Me and my squad, you know we notorious
We straight from Venezuela, we get pussy he he hella
Please get the u-umbrella, I'm feeling so interstellar
Bitch and I'm going to space
Nigga I pull up and I'm leaving no trace
Hit you with blows, oh so quick with the flows
Tree so smelly, it get in your nose
Pass this shit, I chill and I pose
Everyday we chill with the bros
Baby we pull up we flying like crows
Fim fai foe fum
Then I pull up and I get it and go
Tell em wassup yeah I made it up top
We making hits in the crib hit a lick
Got me sick with the flow
Get in the whip and I spin, yeah
I don't know I feel like rick, yeah
Hit em with karate kicks, yeah
Latina mami with me
And you know she wanna party with me
I feel like Carti-er glasses you know I can't see em
Got all these hoes and they up in my DMs
I don't reply shit I don't even read em
It ain't my fault I just don't even care
I'm just too focused on making the bread
Eating my greens like a koala bear
Goddamn goddamn
Venezuela to Japan
Yeah I'm feeling like the man
On a plane we neva land
Loiro always got the plan
Yeah I'm chilling with my clan
I'm about to get that plate
Pull up, pull up I'm about to slay
I'm just trynna get the pay
Trynna get that money
Takis hurt my tummy
Beat so sick got my nose so runny
Get away you a-ain't my buddy
Then I switch it up Nintendo
Me and the homies rolling extendos
Beat so fast yo no-yo no comprendo
Nigga told me, I don't smoke "pero vendo"
Oh, yeah,
Bitch, I be going so fast
Hug the ball I never pass
Nigga I reach a new level, I feel like a rebel, a bandit
This shit is disgusting, it's rancid
I'm tripping on acid, this shit be so classic
I'm feeling dramatic I'm blowing on static
But I'm coming to murder ya
Chiiiiiiill, what?
Goddamn goddamn
Venezuela to Japan
Yeah I'm feeling like the man
On a plane we never land
On a plane don't know where I'm supposed to go
All I know is they keep asking for some more
She a baddie keep it classy not no hoe
Yeah I'm sippin' that Bacardi on the low
Got lil shorty on the phone
I time travel Rick and Morty with my flows
With the gavel hit yo buddies
Switching channels no controller
Wearing Chanel no designer yeah, what?
Yea I'm flexing all this talent
She keep texting I don't answer
Tell her I'm just with another yeah, yeah
I don't bother
In my crib, making hits, with my brothers
And we lit, got my piece, in my holster
We be real, you a fake, you a poser
Yeah, I don't bother
In my crib, makin hits, with my brothers
And we lit, got my piece, in my holster
We be real, you a fake, you a poser