Schoolboy Q - Gangsta in Designer (No Concept) lyrics

Nigga ain't got no concept to this shit, so
I was just on some crazy shit, like

(yeah) Bad bitch, long hair, skin pretty
Curvy ass flat stomach, double D's, please
Be the Birkin bag designer heels
Hermès pants how you fit in that?
(Haha, yeah, you feel me, like? Huh)
(yeah) Look at me Ray-Bans
I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket, different-colored pants
I ain't tryna match
Mauve watch, sagging, see my ass
Pop the thirty tag

Okay, I'm energized, say my tunes turn her on
(Turn her on)
This ain't Enterprise, but kick it boo
Let's bring it home (Bring it home)
I'm hella high, back to back, I smoke alone
Unless my nigga Soul around, fuck it cuz
Let's blow a zone
Now, carry on assume you niggas need a loan
(yeah) quit it with the texting cuh and
Go and make a song (yeah)
My foreign ho bitch call me a maricón
Always rocking shit I never seen
Or I never known (yeah)
Name grown overseas fitter (Fitter)
Sergio Tacchini shirt, real creeper slippers
(Ugh) ySL, see the logo on my zipper
Broad serving me, she going down, yeah
I had to tip her, ugh
(Tip her, tip her, tip her)
A-ten, hut (Ten, hut)

(yeah) Bad bitch, long hair, skin pretty
Curvy ass flat stomach, double D's, please
Be the Birkin bag
Designer heels, Hermès pants
How you fit in that?
(Haha, yeah, you feel me, like? Huh)
(yeah) Look at me Ray-Bans
I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket, different coloured pants
I ain't tryna match
Mauve watch, sagging, see my ass
Pop the thirty tag

HiiiPower, bitch
Let 'em know the players here (Ugh)
I said, "HiiiPower, bitch
" give me Gangster of the Year (Ugh)
This for my HOGs on Figg
And homies on the tier
Always keep this shit groovy, nigga
And I ain't shed a tear (Woo)
Black gat, black whip no tags on it (Ugh)
Face tats, cuz, for sure
Gon' throw the mask on it (Mask on it)
Burner on my lap, nigga, motherfuck the cops
(Fuck the cops)
DEA and all the Feds gon' be my murder plot
(My murder plot)
Money, cash, hoes by the dozen (Dozen)
Never started cracking, bitch, just
Started cooking onions, ugh
(Ugh)
Now, my weed habit always funded (yeah)
And these college broads be
Fucking, do whatever, have 'em flunking
(Flunking, ugh) a-ten, hut (Ten, hut)

(yeah) Bad bitch, long hair, skin pretty
Curvy ass flat stomach, double D's, please
Be the Birkin bag
Designer heels, Hermès pants
How you fit in that?
(yeah, you feel me, like? Huh)
(yeah) Look at me Ray-Bans
I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket, different-colored pants
I ain't tryna match
Mauve watch, sagging, see my ass
Pop the thirty tag (Ugh)

Bitch say she like my songs, so I do her
(Do her) she love a street nigga that done
Jumped up out the cooler (Cooler, ugh, ugh)
Young-ass entrepreneur (yeah) in the 40
40 Club, tripping like I ain't from Hoover
Ugh (yeah)
No bottles, no tables, I just wanna fuck
(Fuck) you, you, you, and you yeah
They know what's up ('Sup)
Only one at a time, baby, slow it down
(Slow it down) just wait up in the front
And listen to the sounds (To the sounds)
She doing all the things she say she say do
(Do, ooh)
Swallow evidence, her boyfriend never
Had a clue, ugh
(Clue) sticking to the script
Like motherfucking glue (Glue)
Got your birdie on my wood like
The bitches from the Lou, ooh
A-ten, hut (Ten, hut)

(yeah) Bad bitch, long hair, skin pretty
Curvy ass flat stomach, double D's, please
Be the Birkin bag designer heels
Hermès pants how you fit in that?
(Haha, yeah, you feel me, like? Huh)
(yeah) Look at me Ray-Bans
I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket, different-colored pants
I ain't tryna match
Mauve watch, sagging, see my ass
Pop the thirty tag