Crib In My Closet

[Produced by Metro Boomin and 808 Mafia] [Verse 1: 2 Chainz] Money machine at the bank, I just made me a deposit Fucked that bitch right on the sink Is it the pussy or is it the faucet? I just left the hotel, never let ho in mi casa All this designer shit it's like a crib in my closet I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet Man, all this fuckin' gear it's like a crib in my closet My Nike shoebox filled with rubber bands That mean my Nike shoebox is my ATM Fuck it, I said it, I'm winning, downsouth MC Ren I might buy some Timbs, or peanut butter 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 motherfucking poet, riding now, motherfucker Ol'Nat A nigga wearing a Versace shirt, man that's a motherfucking throwback [Hook: 2 Chainz] I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet All designer shit, I got a crib in my closet I got a crib in my closet, got a crib in my closet Man, all designer shit, I got a crib All designer shit, all designer shit I got a crib All designer shit, all designer shit I got a crib All designer shit, all designer shit I got a crib in my closet man All designer shit, all designer shit, I got a crib in my closet, bitch [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 ''fuck yo photo caption'' If ye ain't got it then you bragging, that's automatic I see no need for me to Tweet, these bitches know my status I'm the shit, all designer shit, got all kinds of shit Got Prada around from 1999 and shit, bet you won't find the shit I’m on my Anna shit, 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 niggas, over 4000 pairs Most all white like the Rhode Island mayor Got a crib in my closet, hustle every day, nigga If you work with them people, I’m unavailable, nigga You smell like pork in a Mecca, Lord be my protector Second row at the fight, bitch get on my level Larry Merchant my nigga, 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]