YKK - Midas Touch

I paint her face
Like splatoon
On the moon
Counting hundreds too
White and black lambo
Obstagoon
Ain't no
Fronting dude
Steady slipping wrist is iced out
Castiform no ruby
These bitches tripping
Like a horror movie
All them tracks ain't hot
But still I'm rising to infinity
If you ain't bout that money
Get the fuck out my vicinity
Counting up a fuckin check
Diamonds came from Tiffany
All 3 Regis on my neck
Ain't no holy trinity
Fuck that
I be going hard till the day I die
I got real diamonds on my glasses
Like I'm Sabelye
Wrists be hella chilly
I ain't talking bout skyline
That was fuckin corny
But I killed this shit no cyanide
Real diamond earrings shit so heavy
That my ear fell off
Music blowing up and hot
Like a fuckin Molotov
I be fuckin great
I ain't talking bout no Kellogg's
Every body judging but I tell em
Back the hell off
Counting up my cash doesn't get old
Call it Timmy Turner
Skeet on your bitches forehead
Than I leave the server
Bitch I be coming up fast
Like I had an afterburner
Stack up my lettuce that's cash
Like I was a fuckin burger
Tell em all cut the bullshit
Like a matador
I've only got time for one night
Then I'm out the door
Soon I'm gon be touring round the world
Like an ambassador
Car ain't got no roof
Only room for one passenger
Bitch
Uh, hey
I can't fuck with y'all
I'm killing all these rappers
They the ozone I'm the aerosol
Fuck Mexican standoff
I'm still winning in a free for all
My beats sound fuckin clean
Like I'm spitting on some Lysol
Ever since the first tape
Bitch I feel I got the Midas touch
I got all designer
And my jewelry got the finest nugs
Open up, loaded up
Swear I got that flame
She spell coconut, double cup
Brain like mainframe hey
Back on my bullshit
I'm bringing the flavor
My wrists like a 50
My neck be a glacier
No Russian roulette
6 bullets in the chamber
I'm spitting gold iPhone
You spitting a pager
Ima keep going
Till I got a bag
Ima make it big
Now I'm asking where the laughter at
Ima make a milli then another milli
After that
XXL where you at
That's the master plan
I was broke a couple weeks ago
And now I'm getting paid
I've been grinding hella hard
Since we made Fuck Wayde
Bitch I'm fuckin the game from the rear
Like Mia Khalifa
You bitches ain't shit
Death Star and I'm an Ewok
Uh, hey
I can't fuck with y'all
I'm killing all these rappers
They the ozone I'm the aerosol
Fuck Mexican standoff
I'm still winning in a free for all
My beats sound fuckin clean
Like I'm spitting on some Lysol
Ever since the first tape
Bitch I feel I got the Midas touch
I got all designer
And my jewelry got the finest nugs
Open up, loaded up
Swear I got that flame
She spell coconut, double cup
Brain like mainframe hey

Written by:
Yasin Kashubeck

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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