Profile (feat. The Quiett & Dok2)

It’s Illionaire gang bitches

We’re talkin’ about concert we’re on tour

Yeah bitch, check my profile

Perfect, but you’re not

Talking bout concert, we on tour

Your guys’ scale is cute

Bitch check my profile (bitch check my profile)

Yeah bitch check my profile (bitch check my profile)

My aka is Sagikae hell yeah fuckin’

Long ago all I did was shaking hands with stupid bitches

The vicious circle of life, working part-time

That’s an artists’ self disrespect

From 24 to 26, of course my account’s balance has changed

Thanks to Carhartt’s sponsorship I don’t buy and wear domestic any more

Art, how fun is it? And I’m so good at it

My creativity knows no boundaries so I have two majors

My friends are painters, sculptors, it’s fuckin’ cool

The socks of my friend from the fashion faculty are better than your fuckin’ crew

We’re handsome, ur ugly, we take girls, u do with ur left hand

All the time, every day, in French tous les jours

My pen’s tip is as sharp as the Eiffel Tower

Try to stab me with your cotton swabs but I’m not the least bit ticklish

Compared to your music which is like a parasol, my scene are the dome stadiums

I’m too far from where you are, you can’t become me, no manual

Tell em bitches we here we fuckin’ Illionaire gangstas

I always keep my attitude, my swagga borrowed from god

Rockin’ Givenchy and I’m a Mercedes ridah

You envy me? Work hard in your life, too

Or go home

What can you do, a girl that’s only a man on the outside

Now I’m even sick of counting money

I really need a bill counting machine UGH

We’re like the 90’s Bulls. Jordan, Pippen & Rodman

Illionaire hoodie on. The colors are red on black

I spit harder lyrics than anyone

I show the haters my racks on racks

Man fuck ya swag. Bitch fuck ya profile.

Look at what we achieved, listen to it another three, four times

Now everybody knows who’s conquered this place

ILLIONAIRE in this biiitch the rap game’s over

I got em bitches ass up face down frowning screamin’ like she hate now

She be in a panic got her leavin’ my room ain’t sayin’ nothin’ she ain’t mine

Bed time gotta show tomorrow tickets yeah they bought e’m all

All I gotta do’s win win win I’ll be chillin’ while u lame dudes teaching flows and all

That bullshit I don’t do shit like that I ain’t no pussy

I’m a man wit a pride pride harder than my dick y’all too soft wit it sushi

As you can see you guys are after me in line, time’s mine I’m that young rich & fly

I’m just tellin’ the truth tearin’ the booth the roof is on fire

I ain’t gon’ stop till I feel like it

11 years but still rockin’

Dropped 10 CDs but still droppin’

Illionaire motha fucka we still poppin’

We still talkin’ big money

Hunnit grand that’s my whip money

4gs no i phone but hell yeah that’s my kicks money

I get money all day catch me all around the globe

Talkin’ cheese cake and some bread makin’ all type of that dough

I’ll be ridin’ in my Benz smilin’ on my Lenz

And rockin’ all that thang bossin’ I’m the president