Patagonia

Uhn All I ever wanted was the clout We were trappin' out of prep school Taking meals to the boarding house Caviar spilling on the sofa Clean the stains with some club soda Boathouse out in Sarasota ISB for IB diplomas Collserola out in Barcelona Pussy on my boat, I feel like Noah Bitches on my boat, I feel like Noah Chauffeur chauffeur chauffeur chauffeur chauffeur All my niggers wearing Patagonia I ain't write this shit it probly sucks They know I don't care about the bands Please don't make me have to count it up We're just in it for the yachts We're just in it for the penthouse New thot I call Harambe She know how to bring the dicks out I've got so much Patagonia on me I don't wear that Supreme shit Flight to Paris with my fuckin' army Sauce on us like a picnic Please don't talk about the cars, ho My grandpa had twelve Jags Race cars with the checkered flags Shoes chunky like a white dad Hired hits on all my enemies Get their ass when they least expect it How the fuck you gonna tie it to me? Golden Fleece, I tell 'em tie it on me You've got seventeen Polo shirts I've got seventeen polo ponies Whole squad full of Israelites Shout goes out to all of my Shalomies I ain't really with the shits Hittas with me like a dugout New girl got some lips Best believe she's gettin' dug out Chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur, chauffeur All my niggers got on Patagonia All my bitches doing model poses All my bitches live in California Yeah I'm all over SoCal Shout my family on the East Side Ex texting me from rehab She ain't popped a xan since Peep died Bitch I grew up at the country club Mitchellville and we were on a mission Splittin' up our Adderall prescriptions Crack an opp, then go play some cricket I was really out in U.P I was really out in College Heights Had a couple hundred shirts made Couldn't sell 'em 'cuz of copyrights Squa-squa got on Patagonia Elsa wrist, 'cuz it's hella frozen Spent your month on organic groceries Spent your year on these fuckin' loafers And I'm all over NorCal Shout my family on the East Side Ex texting me from rehab She ain't popped a xan since Peep died