Box & Papers

Coi Leray

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    I don't even wanna think about it
    Why everybody think money solve they problems?
    No, you cannot buy loyalty
    What's forgiven is never forgotten

    Yeah, call my jeweler
    Need that plain Jane, box and papers, uh, yeah
    Baby, these not Si's, brand new foreign for a test drive
    The jet ain't got no Wi-Fi, 50k just on vacation (uh, yeah)
    Why they hatin'?
    Got these bitches sick, askin' they self, why I made it
    I'm most hated, but ya nigga's favorite
    I can't deal with the labels
    But I fuck with the bank
    Walk in, need two-fifty in cash just to put on my chain
    What the fuck did you think?
    All this hе say, rah-rah shit
    Took me right to the safe
    And I fill up my drink
    42 mixеd with the pineapple
    'Cause I like how that shit taste

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    Ooh, they say I'm sexy
    I'm throwin' these hundreds, this shit get messy
    I could never trust a bitch
    Doin' donuts in the whip (yeah)
    This ain't no tesla
    Walk in bless 'em with my presence, uh
    Baby, merry Christmas
    Pockets so full when I limp I need crutches
    This backwood bussin', bitch these Russians, uh, yeah
    Yeah, yeah, yeah
    They be like: How you do that there?
    They ask me baby: How you so viral? I see you everywhere
    Yeah, love it how you wear your braids, they copy all your hair
    When I popped out, bitch you wasn't even there
    Uh, yeah
    How you deal with the hate?
    I don't give a fuck, I don't care
    Yeah, bitch pass me the bottle
    Pull up in new auto
    I'm sittin' real pretty, I'm sippin' Moscato
    I call up the vado, tell him we need that two for six
    And we'll see him tomorrow
    Yeah, I hopped off a jet and I land in Chicago
    These bitches be jackin' my swag like my nigga Harlow
    They wanna book me for a show and I tell them call Cairo
    Yeah, bitch I'm doing well, I get money like Fargo

    Yeah, call my jeweler
    Need that plain Jane, box and papers, uh, yeah
    Baby this not Si's, brand new foreign for a test drive
    The jet ain't got no Wi-Fi, 50k just on vacation (uh, yeah)
    Why they hatin'?
    Got these bitches sick, askin' they self, why I made it
    I'm most hated, but ya nigga's favorite
    I can't deal with the labels
    But I fuck with the bank
    Walk in, need two-fifty in cash just to put on my chain
    What the fuck did you think?
    All this he say, rah-rah shit
    Took me right to the safe
    And I fill up my drink
    42 mixed with the pineapple
    'Cause I like how that shit taste

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