Metro Boomin - Crib In My Closet lyrics

[Produced by Metro Boomin and 808 Mafia] [Verse 1: 2 Chainz] Money machine at the bank, I just made me a deposit f**ed that b**h right on the sink Is it the p**y or is it the faucet? I just left the hotel, never let ho in mi casa All this designer sh** it's like a crib in my closet I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet Man, all this f**in' gear it's like a crib in my closet My Nike shoebox filled with rubber bands That mean my Nike shoebox is my ATM f** it, I said it, I'm winning, downsouth MC Ren I might buy some Timbs, or peanut bu*ter MCM Raised down the street from a crack house Pull her hair weave 'til the track out Treat the rap game like a trap game Tryna make a yellow ho tap out I got Dolce, I ain't even worn yet, codeine ain't even po' yet I could spend millions of dollars, and still won't even be poor yet Yeah, I'm a motherf**ing poet, riding now, motherf**er Ol'Nat A n***a wearing a Versace shirt, man that's a motherf**ing throwback [Hook: 2 Chainz] I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet All designer sh**, I got a crib in my closet I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet Man, all designer sh**, I got a crib All designer sh**, all designer sh** I got a crib All designer sh**, all designer sh** I got a crib All designer sh**, all designer sh** I got a crib in my closet man All designer sh**, all designer sh**, I got a crib in my closet, b**h [Verse 2: A$AP Rocky] Since rappin' turn to fashion, I don't know what happen Or mishappens, matching turned to swagging He exposed the world to trappin' Picture posin' tactics Hold this that click click, finna' blow this backwards Money, hoes and fabrics Scrolling past like ''f** yo photo caption'' If ye ain't got it then you bragging, that's automatic I see no need for me to Tweet, these b**hes know my status I'm the sh**, all designer sh**, got all kinds of sh** Got Prada around from 1999 and sh**, bet you won't find the sh** I'm on my Anna sh**, that's Wintour It's dressed like it's Met Ball I'm in Vogue, this winter, the runway, no insta Got a crib in my closet, Spanish chick in my casa So much space in my closet, fit your crib in my closet [Hook] [Verse 3: Rick Ross] I got more sneakers than n***as, over 4000 pairs Most all white like the Rhode Island mayor Got a crib in my closet, hustle every day, n***a If you work with them people, I'm unavailable, n***a You smell like pork in a Mecca, Lord be my protector Second row at the fight, b**h get on my level Larry Merchant my n***a, I got Holyfield money Finger your girl at Coachella, gotta roll in that for me You should see me in Lennox, I shop ‘til I drop Spent so much on the watch, had a seizure and shock Wake up and ball, watch how I walk Money all on my mind, call 'em lucrative thoughts [Hook]