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versace - jabie lyrics

[verse 1: jabie]
versace, versace, i cannot afford it cause i have no money
buying all type of designer sh-t, b-tch have you seen the economy?
you live in the projects you b-tch and you act like you swimming in property
always ’bout looking one hundred, but you and your mom are still broke and you living in poverty
get your priorities straight, you got money to save, but instead you just spend it on chocolate
aim for the entire factory b-tch why you stop at a bar of it?
you in the struggle, so stop with the act, you are not kidding anyone, act like a part of it
tucking your top in your belt, man it’s obvious, want to be cool but you look like a wannabe
why are you stunting when all of us know, that you borrow your clothes
and your mom’s on a loan, and your brother and you and your papa are broke
and your oven is off and your water is cold
and your jordans are more than your cupboards can hold
and you ball in the club with a bottle with a bottle of mo’
and you lure in a woman by talking a load
and she’s baffled as f-ck when she walks in your home
versace, controversy waiting to stir, but i’m here and it’s back around
people keep asking me how i stay real in a world in which hannah montana is rapping now
you can keep splashing your money on all type of jewellery, waving your belt and your hat around
carry on buying so stupidly all of that louis v, i’m trying to fill up my bank account
versace, versace, these labels should pay me to spit, i’m a prodigy
these rappers that battled me ran away, then gave a written apology
i do not f-ck with your new sh-t my spitter, cause it ain’t on top of me
pardon me? you wanna f-ck with me, now that you know i’ll blow up just to give you my broccoli?
none of that, i do not f-ck with that, you must be crazy if you think i’ll give you my profit
can bet on my life, if i get any dough, it goes straight in our pockets
that’s me and my mama, and aunties, and uncles, and b-tches, the rest of the people i promised
and people that help me achieve what i’ve wanted for seventeen years, gonna feast when i’ve got it
versace, versace, i’m sick of you spitters that claim to be bangers
none of you have a bandanna on, let alone handle a hammer
now all of a sudden, you claim that you banging inside of the manor
man stop with the yapping, it’s hurting my ears, and i’m tired of b-tches that try to be gangsta

[outro: jabie]
my girl made a baby but i did not raise it, i gave it to charity
haha, i’m just kidding, i’m finished

- jabie lyrics

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