Prompt / Lyrics
[Intro] Ten-grand Christmas drops, baby that’s light work, Louis on my neck like a generational perk. Move over motherfucker — I’m rich-rich, not “dreaming about it” rich. [Verse 1] Platinum card glistening, balances never dip, Monogram leather hugging me like ownership. Bags on my arm like I just raided a vault, Don’t call me boujee — I’m the blueprint by default. Scarf wrapped flawless in a beige-gold drift, Stepping through the room like I came on a gift. Champagne aura, old-money stance, I don’t hope for luxury — I give it a chance. [Pre-Chorus] Spend ten racks? Baby, that’s errands. Call it excess — I call it inherent. These bitches want taste but they stuck in T K Maxx, While I pick my presents straight from the AmEx. [Chorus] Move over motherfucker, I’m the luxury prince, My lifestyle’s so rich it should come with a rinse. Dripping LV from my neck to my stride, I don’t flex money, babe — money flexes me on the side. Move over motherfucker, you’re a budget regret — I’m custom-order, monogrammed, couture silhouette. Gold, canvas, diamonds in sync — I smell like wealth… you smell like “let me think.” [Verse 2] Ten-grand Christmas? Babe that’s foreplay, Wait ‘til they see my birthday display. I don’t chase a vibe — I create the vibe, I’m the reason rich men suddenly feel alive. Those golf-club daddies break their necks for a glance, Because I walk in like I own the damn dance. These hoes do “nice”, I do “international first,” I don’t sip luxury — I quench the thirst. [Pre-Chorus] Spend ten racks? Baby, that’s errands. Call it excess — I call it inherent. These bitches want taste but they stuck in T K Maxx, While I pick my presents straight from the AmEx. [Chorus] Move over motherfucker, I’m the luxury prince, My lifestyle’s so rich it should come with a rinse. Dripping LV from my neck to my stride, I don’t flex money, babe — money flexes me on the side. Move over motherfucker, you’re a budget regret — I’m custom-order, monogrammed, couture silhouette. Gold, canvas, diamonds in sync — I smell like wealth… you smell like “let me think.” [Bridge] My bag screams status, My scarf says elite, My jewellery? Bitch please — It outshines deceit. If wealth had a face, it would look like mine, A perfect blend of savage and refined. [Chorus] Move over motherfucker, I’m the luxury prince, My lifestyle’s so rich it should come with a rinse. Dripping LV from my neck to my stride, I don’t flex money, babe — money flexes me on the side. Move over motherfucker, you’re a budget regret — I’m custom-order, monogrammed, couture silhouette. Gold, canvas, diamonds in sync — I smell like wea [Final Chorus] Move over motherfucker, I’m a four-season flex, Not bargain-bin glamour or two-for-one checks. LV heartbeat, gold-dipped tone — I’m rich in my bloodline, rich in my throne. Move over motherfucker, You’re simply not in my tier — I drop more on Christmas Than you gross in a year. Louis on my arm, platinum in my hand — Bow to the king, babe… I AM the brand.
Tags
Male Vocal, Hypnotic club beat, distorted bass, breathy vocals, sexy tension, chaotic Blackout-era vibe., male, man
Duration
2:44
Instrumental
No
Created
12/7/2025