(Damn, Fraudskiii, you f*cking em up) bitch
Christian Dior on, feel like Jesus Christ
Diamonds in the white buffs, all I see is ice
Bro addicted to the juice
Think he need a pint
How the f*ck I fail English? All
I do is read and write
Boy, and that's no lie
Told her I just want the neck like a bowtie
Two Glocks, push the buffies up
I'm four-wide palm Angels off the Christians
Like I know God
Keep a cannon with the flash like I'm
I'll pop you
Tell a bitch that if the head right
I'll pop you
Underneath the Glock a red light
I'll stop you boogers in the buffies
You would think I said achoo
I ain't gotta sneeze to get
Blessed by your bitch though
I remember days sliding tracks
'til my wrist swole
Had to punch just to get a slice
Feel like Kimbo
All gas even though the cap break's Brembo
That don't mean I'm slowing down (Nah)
Yung Joc, catch the opps, it's going down
I don't box, up the Glock
Here go some rounds
Looking for the giffy, shit
There go the aisle
Boy, who you talking 'bout?
Who you speaking on?
They ain't put no food up on my plate
I had to eat alone finna wake 'em up like
Who the f*ck they sleeping on?
Glock mandatory, you catch me out
You know I keep it on
In a Striker tryna smoke a opp, roll up
Neck amazing
Had to tell your bitch to hold up
Balenciaga got my sneakers throwing fours up
Stick got the flash, if I
Catch, you better pose, bruh
V12 underneath the hood, who you finna race?
I just heard somebody say it's smoke like
Who you finna face? Money on the floor, I'm
Spinning bitches, boo, you in the way
If it ain't the Glock or ARP
Gon' shoot you with a Drac'
He keep asking 'bout his lil' bitch, oh
She with Stan probably
Thousand dollar jeans
Stuffing money in my pants sloppy
I know if the Runtz ever dry up
Then the fans got me
White buffs, Off White hoodie, think
The clan got me, huh
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
That's on every song
StanWill - Dior Christ Lyrics
StanWill - Dior Christ Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
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(Damn, Fraudskiii, you f*cking em up) bitch
Christian Dior on, feel like Jesus Christ
Diamonds in the white buffs, all I see is ice
Bro addicted to the juice
Think he need a pint
How the f*ck I fail English? All
I do is read and write
Boy, and that's no lie
Told her I just want the neck like a bowtie
Two Glocks, push the buffies up
I'm four-wide palm Angels off the Christians
Like I know God
Keep a cannon with the flash like I'm
I'll pop you
Tell a bitch that if the head right
I'll pop you
Underneath the Glock a red light
I'll stop you boogers in the buffies
You would think I said achoo
I ain't gotta sneeze to get
Blessed by your bitch though
I remember days sliding tracks
'til my wrist swole
Had to punch just to get a slice
Feel like Kimbo
All gas even though the cap break's Brembo
That don't mean I'm slowing down (Nah)
Yung Joc, catch the opps, it's going down
I don't box, up the Glock
Here go some rounds
Looking for the giffy, shit
There go the aisle
Boy, who you talking 'bout?
Who you speaking on?
They ain't put no food up on my plate
I had to eat alone finna wake 'em up like
Who the f*ck they sleeping on?
Glock mandatory, you catch me out
You know I keep it on
In a Striker tryna smoke a opp, roll up
Neck amazing
Had to tell your bitch to hold up
Balenciaga got my sneakers throwing fours up
Stick got the flash, if I
Catch, you better pose, bruh
V12 underneath the hood, who you finna race?
I just heard somebody say it's smoke like
Who you finna face? Money on the floor, I'm
Spinning bitches, boo, you in the way
If it ain't the Glock or ARP
Gon' shoot you with a Drac'
He keep asking 'bout his lil' bitch, oh
She with Stan probably
Thousand dollar jeans
Stuffing money in my pants sloppy
I know if the Runtz ever dry up
Then the fans got me
White buffs, Off White hoodie, think
The clan got me, huh
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
That's on every song
Christian Dior on, feel like Jesus Christ
Diamonds in the white buffs, all I see is ice
Bro addicted to the juice
Think he need a pint
How the f*ck I fail English? All
I do is read and write
Boy, and that's no lie
Told her I just want the neck like a bowtie
Two Glocks, push the buffies up
I'm four-wide palm Angels off the Christians
Like I know God
Keep a cannon with the flash like I'm
I'll pop you
Tell a bitch that if the head right
I'll pop you
Underneath the Glock a red light
I'll stop you boogers in the buffies
You would think I said achoo
I ain't gotta sneeze to get
Blessed by your bitch though
I remember days sliding tracks
'til my wrist swole
Had to punch just to get a slice
Feel like Kimbo
All gas even though the cap break's Brembo
That don't mean I'm slowing down (Nah)
Yung Joc, catch the opps, it's going down
I don't box, up the Glock
Here go some rounds
Looking for the giffy, shit
There go the aisle
Boy, who you talking 'bout?
Who you speaking on?
They ain't put no food up on my plate
I had to eat alone finna wake 'em up like
Who the f*ck they sleeping on?
Glock mandatory, you catch me out
You know I keep it on
In a Striker tryna smoke a opp, roll up
Neck amazing
Had to tell your bitch to hold up
Balenciaga got my sneakers throwing fours up
Stick got the flash, if I
Catch, you better pose, bruh
V12 underneath the hood, who you finna race?
I just heard somebody say it's smoke like
Who you finna face? Money on the floor, I'm
Spinning bitches, boo, you in the way
If it ain't the Glock or ARP
Gon' shoot you with a Drac'
He keep asking 'bout his lil' bitch, oh
She with Stan probably
Thousand dollar jeans
Stuffing money in my pants sloppy
I know if the Runtz ever dry up
Then the fans got me
White buffs, Off White hoodie, think
The clan got me, huh
ShittyBoyz, Dog Shit Militia
That's on every song