(Yeah, aye)
(Uh)
(Float, float, float, float)
(Hold up)
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Garden back and he ball with the racks all day
Nigga wanna try hit a lick but I got the gang okay
I told that boy to stop capping
Nigga don't get no cake
I cannot f*ck with these broke boys nah
Nigga I'm okay
Iced out watch
I don't know the time zone
Bitches call me baby
Rocking Baby Milo
Taking all these snaps while they singing my song
Vetements socks
I don't f*ck with long johns
On that Rosedale timing
Skrting through 147 Ave while we shining
Balling like it's 2k12
Not the Mayans
Everything I do, I do it big
I'm too high end yeah
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Ayo shawty can you flex with me?
I must admit, you impressing me
With that new Dior, ooh excellent
Got a few fits I can dress you in
With some new McQueen, yeah it's Heaven sent
Huh, shawty bad and it's evident
Leave her back dead like dead presidents
When the bills blue, they all Benjamins
I'm a fly nigga but a gentlemen
All your ex-men, I'm better than
So pull up in the Benz sedan
Bring your girlfriend
Oh, I'll let her in
Yeah, I'll let her in, yeah
Stacking my paper
Man f*ck all the haters
I do what I want
I don't owe noone favors
I roll with the crew
Only W3 players
I go to my treehouse and work on my bangers
I know why they mad
Cause they really can't stand us
They hate cause I'm young and I'm getting my bands up
These brand new McQueens
Yeah they looking outstanding
Palm Angels my wings
I don't think that I'm landing
Yeah
Feel me?
(Feel me, feel me, uh uh)
Rest in peace McQueen, man
(Garden)
Float, float, float
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
(Garden)
(Yeah)
CamilosGarden - R.I.P. McQueen Freestyle Lyrics
CamilosGarden - R.I.P. McQueen Freestyle Lyrics
Official
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
(Yeah, aye)
(Uh)
(Float, float, float, float)
(Hold up)
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Garden back and he ball with the racks all day
Nigga wanna try hit a lick but I got the gang okay
I told that boy to stop capping
Nigga don't get no cake
I cannot f*ck with these broke boys nah
Nigga I'm okay
Iced out watch
I don't know the time zone
Bitches call me baby
Rocking Baby Milo
Taking all these snaps while they singing my song
Vetements socks
I don't f*ck with long johns
On that Rosedale timing
Skrting through 147 Ave while we shining
Balling like it's 2k12
Not the Mayans
Everything I do, I do it big
I'm too high end yeah
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Ayo shawty can you flex with me?
I must admit, you impressing me
With that new Dior, ooh excellent
Got a few fits I can dress you in
With some new McQueen, yeah it's Heaven sent
Huh, shawty bad and it's evident
Leave her back dead like dead presidents
When the bills blue, they all Benjamins
I'm a fly nigga but a gentlemen
All your ex-men, I'm better than
So pull up in the Benz sedan
Bring your girlfriend
Oh, I'll let her in
Yeah, I'll let her in, yeah
Stacking my paper
Man f*ck all the haters
I do what I want
I don't owe noone favors
I roll with the crew
Only W3 players
I go to my treehouse and work on my bangers
I know why they mad
Cause they really can't stand us
They hate cause I'm young and I'm getting my bands up
These brand new McQueens
Yeah they looking outstanding
Palm Angels my wings
I don't think that I'm landing
Yeah
Feel me?
(Feel me, feel me, uh uh)
Rest in peace McQueen, man
(Garden)
Float, float, float
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
(Garden)
(Yeah)
(Uh)
(Float, float, float, float)
(Hold up)
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Garden back and he ball with the racks all day
Nigga wanna try hit a lick but I got the gang okay
I told that boy to stop capping
Nigga don't get no cake
I cannot f*ck with these broke boys nah
Nigga I'm okay
Iced out watch
I don't know the time zone
Bitches call me baby
Rocking Baby Milo
Taking all these snaps while they singing my song
Vetements socks
I don't f*ck with long johns
On that Rosedale timing
Skrting through 147 Ave while we shining
Balling like it's 2k12
Not the Mayans
Everything I do, I do it big
I'm too high end yeah
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
Ayo shawty can you flex with me?
I must admit, you impressing me
With that new Dior, ooh excellent
Got a few fits I can dress you in
With some new McQueen, yeah it's Heaven sent
Huh, shawty bad and it's evident
Leave her back dead like dead presidents
When the bills blue, they all Benjamins
I'm a fly nigga but a gentlemen
All your ex-men, I'm better than
So pull up in the Benz sedan
Bring your girlfriend
Oh, I'll let her in
Yeah, I'll let her in, yeah
Stacking my paper
Man f*ck all the haters
I do what I want
I don't owe noone favors
I roll with the crew
Only W3 players
I go to my treehouse and work on my bangers
I know why they mad
Cause they really can't stand us
They hate cause I'm young and I'm getting my bands up
These brand new McQueens
Yeah they looking outstanding
Palm Angels my wings
I don't think that I'm landing
Yeah
Feel me?
(Feel me, feel me, uh uh)
Rest in peace McQueen, man
(Garden)
Float, float, float
I can't shop at any store
Copping shit from magazines
Pay attention to the clothes
Rocking shit you'll never see
Go on stage and hit my whoa
Neck and wrist on Louis V
Kicks all white just like the Pope
Rest in peace that boy McQueen, yeah
(Garden)
(Yeah)
Writer: CAMILO YEPES, RON SUPREME
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave