Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones An ice cold beer sittin' in the console Memory lane up in the headlights Has got me reminiscing on the good times I'm turning off the real life, driving, that's right Smoke rollin' out the window Yeah I'm chilling

Double C your purses, you deserve it But you're curvin' Curvy little body, love your surface (Surface) I like the way you keep up with your earnings Yeah, it's okay, 'cause you swervin' We got London On Da Track Got the AP covered, diamonds with

Let's get cozy Get to know me, I ain't such a bad dude Swerving down the coast in my Got me drippin' like a nose bleed Love is adderall Don't need no codeine You got me floating

Pour me up a 4 and I'll feel like myself again Roll me up some dope and I'll feel like myself again Drivin' solo, I'm just swervin' through my ends I'mma break every box they try to put me in When I'm sober I just don't like who I am I got a lot of

Swervin', hit them curbs on 'em, curbs on 'em, yeah In the coupe like a bird on 'em, bird on 'em, yeah Said my lil' baby swerve on 'em, swerve on 'em, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah And my lil' baby swerve on 'em, swerve on 'em, yeah She

Sitting here, patching myself up Crying over what's left, 'cause Without you I ain't shit, but no pressure Guess I gotta learn my lesson I know that I've been swerving on this course Can't find me somewhere writin' when I'm wrong Girl, I'm just tryna see

Pull up swerving in a coupe Move them bricks to the bando like, ouu Diamond on my wrist and it look like glue Maison Margiela all over my shoe Walk in the club and I flex like ouu Walk in the club and I flex like, ouu Smokin' on loud pack, ouu

Yeah I'm chillin' on a dirt road. Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones Smoke rollin' out the window An ice cold beer sittin' in the console. Memory Lane up in the headlights. Got me reminiscing on the good times Said I'm turnin' off the real life

Who that nigga with the icy ass chain? (Who?) Gucci shirt, Gucci shoes, leather Balmains (Gucci) Who that, who that, swerving in a Huracan (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt) Five in the morning, still whipping cocaine (cocaine) Who that nigga with the icy ass

Laid back swervin' like I'm George Jones An ice cold beer sittin' in the console Memory lane up in the headlights Has got me reminiscing on the good times I'm turning off the real life, driving, that's right Smoke rollin' out the window Yeah I'm chilling