Lyrics Lil Tracy – Don’t Touch

Le-Le-Leesta

Eighty racks worth of clothes in my closet
I don’t even have a deal
I can’t explain how this cashmere feel

I fucked a Christian bitch, I made her cuss (Oh my God)
Christian Dior bag, I don’t think you can afford that
Nigga I’m dripping, I survived a flood
I swear she got a porn ass, I might have to record that
Yeah, these VVS’s, yeah, they glistenin’
Yeah, my GPS is to your bitch crib
Shout out to my ex, I wouldn’t be shit
If you didn’t break my heart and make me a demon
(Thank you, lil’ bitch)
Let’s just get it straight, all my bitches bi (Straight up)
All these niggas hatin’, ay-ay-ay-ay-ay (Ay-ay-ay)
All these bitches waitin’ for me to save their life
I can’t do that unless you change my mind (Okay)
I think I’m Paris Hilton, let’s go shopping
I don’t drink no Hennessy, I drink Sake
I swear love brain, I’m a zombie
Keep my eye on these niggas, I’m Illuminati

Eighty racks worth of clothes in my closet
I don’t even have a deal
I can’t explain how this cashmere feel
Tracy pulled up in some brand new wheels