Designer - Lil Herb

This Gucci, this Louis, this Fendi, this Robins, Givenchy' and truey fits

That Prada, Versace, and Armani, what am I gonna do with this

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties add up till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties add up till I count me a

million

Ferragamo or Gucci, they all designer, I don’t know the difference

Forget what I spent on it'

I’m form Chirac but my belt is from italy

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds that’s on me ain’t close to that much but it felt like a

million

Run around through Chiraq and a bitch with me black but her hair is Brazilian

Smoking louds’sipping act better watch how you act 'cause the mac will go BRATT

and they can’t bring you back

Now it’s after the fact, put the mac in the trunk while we smoke and relax

While I thumb through these racks, man, I just spent a stack on a belt and a hat

never thought I see the day I go from state to state and I fuck all these hoes

on the way

Never thought I’d be that nigga, every time I step I got all these hoes in my

face

But fuck all these bitches

All I know is get' these digits and flex and stay real with my niggas

kill for my niggas

Max Ben getting money but believe his finger still on the trigger

got to get this money cuz the ain’t dead yet

but they always gon be bucking but me

And that ain’t nothing funny

that’s why I keep this Tec cuz niggas ain’t never gon get nothing from me

This Gucci, this Louis, this Fendi, this Robins, Givenchy'

That Prada, Versace, 'and Armani, what am I gonna do with this

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

Ferragamo or Gucci, they all designer, I don’t know the difference

Forget what I spent on it'

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

Shooter shout out the thirty, shot out the semi, I can’t tell the difference

'Cause my shorties, they' itching to pull on they block and empty dem 100 and

clips in them

I be all all up the way in the states

so these local Lil niggas don’t take much to get to them

I be all in my city and Louis and Fendi, just giving them all of my benjamins

These niggas pretending, they really ain’t getting no money

They really ain’t wit the shits

I be up on the block that’s named after ROC

where Lil mally tote 50 and 60 clips

free my big broski JOC when he touched on the block it’s a party

so line up a bitch for him

These niggas is bitches

they snakes and they fakes and they leeches

so I don’t got shit for them

they come up in the streets

but grew up to be Jake’s and preechera that give niggas sentences

so I be smoking refer chillin sipping counting digits missing all of my niggas

while these 100s these 50s these 20s add up till I count me a milli

This Gucci, this Louis, this Fendi, this Robins, Givenchy'

That Prada, Versace, 'and Armani, what am I gonna do with this

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

Ferragamo or Gucci, they all designer, I don’t know the difference

Forget what I spent on it'

I’m counting these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million

All these hundreds, these fifties, these twenties till I count me a million