Box & Papers - Coi Leray

I don’t even wanna think about it

Why everybody think money solve they problems?

No, you cannot buy loyalty

What’s forgiven is never forgotten

Yeah, call my jeweler

Need that plain jane, box and papers, uh, yeah

Baby, these not SI’s, brand new foreign for a test drive

The jet ain’t got no Wi-Fi, 50k just on vacation (Uh, yeah)

Why they hatin'?

Got these bitches sick, askin' they self, why I made it

I’m most hated, but ya nigga’s favorite

I can’t deal with the labels

But I fuck with the bank

Walk in, need two-fifty in cash just to put on my chain

What the fuck did you think?

All this he say, rah-rah shit

Took me right to the safe

And I fill up my drink

42 mixed with the pineapple

'Cause I like how that shit taste

Ooh, they say I’m sexy

I’m throwin' these hundreds, this shit get messy

I could never trust a bitch

Doin' donuts in the whip (Yeah)

This ain’t no Tesla

Walk in bless 'em with my presence, uh

Baby, Merry Christmas

Pockets so full when I limp I need crutches

This Backwood bussin', bitch these Russians, uh, yeah

Yeah, yeah, yeah

They be like «How you do that there?»

They ask me baby, «How you so viral? I see you everywhere»

Yeah, love it how you wear your braids, they copy all your hair

When I popped out, bitch you wasn’t even there

Uh, yeah

«How you deal with the hate?»

I don’t give a fuck, I don’t care

Yeah, bitch pass me the bottle

Pull up in new auto

I’m sittin' real pretty, I’m sippin' moscato

I call up the vado, tell him we need that two for six

And we’ll see him tomorrow

Yeah, I hopped off a jet and I land in Chicago

These bitches be jackin' my swag like my nigga Harlow

They wanna book me for a show and I tell them call Cairo

Yeah, bitch I’m doing well, I get money like Fargo

Yeah, call my jeweler

Need that plain jane, box and papers, uh, yeah

Baby this not SI’s, brand new foreign for a test drive

The jet ain’t got no Wi-Fi, 50k just on vacation (Uh, yeah)

Why they hatin'?

Got these bitches sick, askin' they self, why I made it

I’m most hated, but ya nigga’s favorite

I can’t deal with the labels

But I fuck with the bank

Walk in, need two-fifty in cash just to put on my chain

What the fuck did you think?

All this he say, rah-rah shit

Took me right to the safe

And I fill up my drink

42 mixed with the pineapple

'Cause I like how that shit taste