[Intro:dREW]

Versace Versace

Versace

Yo' man I ain't even gon' be humble about it
Man i killed this
I'm the rawest n***a alive, dog

I'm the Black Tom Ford
I'm the Black Saint Laurent
I'm the Black Warhol
I'm the Black on your wall

[Verse 1: dREW]

Versace, Versace
I got a hot tottie that's all on my body
If your girl ain't with you
Then call up her phone, I'll answer it prolly
I keep it 5 Hunna in these streets
With these beats, n***a no one can stop me
She lovin' my music, you know that she choosing me
N***a I'm cocky
Put the deep Voice on like an A$AP song
N***as thought I was Rocky
Book me for a show, I can turn funerals into a Project X Party
Turn up, Turn Out
I spaz in the booth
Migos look what you've started
I go retarded
Get sloppy toppy in drive-thrus at Hardee's
Its summertime and I'm still rockin' Cardis
2013, ya'll still poppin' Mollies?
Lodi Di Dodi man we like to party
Ask 'bout yo' n***a, they'll say that I'm gnarly
Poppin' an Ollie
On all of you haters
Kick-flip the middle finger, I ain't even a skater
Ballin' with that Cali Purple
I ain't even a Laker
Flawda Water on me homie
I ain't even a Gator
Ugh
But back to that Versace
Ah, geez
All these women screaming for my sausage
On knees
So, without spending a pretty penny
Take her to the local Denny's
And wait for her to finish
'Bout to get a ticket in a minute
'Cuz the windows so tinted
But they gotta be, you don't need to see what's up in it
She gettin' low like Lil' John and them Eastside n***as
Can't get spunk on the flo' 'cuz the Beamer's a rented
I can't keep goin'
Ball so hard that I hurt my groin
I think I need a massage
Hurry up with my damn croissants!