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She So
by
Tom MacDonald
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Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer sh*t And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy sh*t And a limo ride, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, both of them designer She go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurts, hurts, hurts Uh, she at a party full of suits Chillin' with the old monеy, tryna make a move She wondеrs why her parents and her friends don't approve But she livin' in the moment and she has nothing to prove to them Couple stacks on a week night, movie and some weed night Move a little sh*t in her free time Couple stacks on a week night, that ain't even good, that's a weak night Couple friends on her phone like "where you at?" She don't even know, she don't holler back She tryna make some money quick, they tell her watch her language She just tryna watch her weight Couple guys on her phone like "where you been?" She gave 'em what they want, and never saw 'em since She tryna make it feel alright, so she shops all day and cries all night She don't even know what she wants She chillin' all day, smokin' blunts at the salon And her leopard stilettos and her grape cigarillo And a rumor that she heard, and the b*t*hes that she tellin' Dark skin, blonde hair Big booty, fake nails She actin' like it's really what she wanted But all she really wanted was to feel wanted Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer sh*t And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy sh*t And a limo ride, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, both of them designer She, go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurts, hurts, hurts New Fendi heels, got the whole collection She just follow trends, she don't take directions She tryna match her nails with her belt She ain't proud of he outfit, she proud of herself She got the jewels all glued on her iPhone Brand new lingerie, f**kin' with the lights on They wrote it off cause they never tried to write home She don't even feel like she came from the right home Couple girls got her back and they hold it down Make up every night and they roll around They just tryna get out the city cause they know if they don't all they'll ever be is pretty Couple men who really treat her like they should Couple women that tell her what's really good She just tryna own this game And get out of this lonely place She just tryna do it like she wanna Smoke a couple joints and not end up like her mama Got a stack in her pillow case Racks in a hidden place Racks on racks at a cribbo in a different place She cryin' cause there's diamonds in her eyes And they're not clear enough to see anything but the price She about that life, she about life, f**k, but she don't know why Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer sh*t And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy sh*t And a limo ride, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, both of them designer She, go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurts, hurts, hurts
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