Letra Expensive couches Larry June

Expensive couches

La música de Harry Fraud
(Yeah)

I got the Louis bag to match the Benz, I’m doin’ anything (Numbers)
Carbon-fiber frame on the bike cost five Gs
Don’t check me, lil nigga, check your hygiene
2015, trips to the Philippines
When I touched my first million dollars, didn’t announce that (Announce that)
On the phone with Herman Miller, askin’ where the couch at (Couch at)
Why these niggas always got my name where they mouth at? (Mouth at)
Passin’ through Vacaville, take her to the outlet
Love, you gotta work your way up to get that real bag
Mackin’ on a bitch, white tee and a hydro flask (Numbers)
Duffel bag with the name tag filled with hella cash (Yeah)
Hundred grand all blue, slidin’ up Mill Ave (Yeah)
House in Atlanta, bought that, nigga, all cash
Tax write-off for you niggas that don’t understand (Numbers)
I be out the way with my son, playin’ in the sand (Yeah)
Make the money work for itself, nigga, buy some land
Bricks of Columbia, linen shorts and button-ups (Button-ups)
I be goin’ beast mode, livin’ life so comfortable (Comfortable)
And I ain’t gotta talk my numbers, just know I’m eatin’ (Eatin’)
I parked the Grand Nat- by the Benz for no reason
What’s hannin’?

Yeah
And bitch, you already know what time it is, you know I mean? (Uh, numbers)
I’ma always talk my shit, just get used to it (Good job)
Somethin’ slight, you know I mean?
Bitch, I must stay healthy (Good job)
Fresh orange juice and shit, you know I mean? (Yeah)
Hoppin’ out them big boys, playa shit, nigga

Tryna make it out, but this shit gettin’ kinda tricky
What am I to do when the snow bunny got twenty?
Off top, real nigga shit, had to fuck with it (Fuck with it)
Bounced in my old-school, tossed on that Lauryn Hill
She rubbin’ on your Rolex to make sure your shit real
Me? She already know I’m up, it is what it is
I kick that shit that I live, you all talk (All talk)
Electric gears on this bike that I peddle on (What’s hannin’?)
Run it up, gotta make it happen (Good job)
I ain’t gotta sell dreams, bitch, you know what hannin’? (Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
When she see that matte Benz, then she know it’s daddy (She know it’s daddy)
I might tell Mando to pull out the Caddy (What’s hannin’, Mando?)
Sippin’ on this water with the kiwi in it (Kiwi in it)
Pulled up in the sprinter with the TV in it (TV in it)
I ain’t see you, you ain’t see me, we just fuckin’ with it (What’s hannin’?)
Harry Fraud on the beat, I had to come with it (Yeah)
What’s hannin’?

La música de Harry Fraud
And everything gucci on my end (Check)
You know I’m sayin’? Copacetic and shit (Man)
Somethin’ slight (Numbers), check (Good job)
And it’s some other shit, nigga, you know I’m sayin’? (Man)
Versace cuffs for no reason, you know I mean? (Yeah)
Pinky off the cut too, bitch, numbers
Sock it to me