Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer shit And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy shit And some limo rides, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, but both of them designer She go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurt, hurt, hurts Uh, she at a party full of suits Chilling with the old money, tryna make a move She wonder why her parents and her friends don't approve But she living in the moment and she has nothing to prove to them Couple stacks on a week night, movie and some weed night Move a little shit in her free time Couple stacks on a week night, they ain't even good, that's a weak night Couple friends on her phone like "where you at?" She don't even know, she don't holler back She tryna make some money and escape But they tell her watch her language, she just tryna watch her weight, ah Couple guys on her phone like "where you been?" She gave 'em what they want, and never saw 'em since She tryna make it feel alright, so she shops all day and she cries all night She don't even know what she wants She chilling all day, smoking blunts at the salon In her leopard print stilettos with a grape cigarillo And a rumor that she heard, and the bitches that she telling Dark skin, blonde hair Big booty, fake nails She acting like it's really what she wanted But all she really wanted was to really feel wanted, ah Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer shit And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy shit And some limo rides, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, but both of them designer She go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurt, hurt, hurts New Fendi heels, got the whole collection She just follow trends, she don't take directions She tryna match her nails with her belt She ain't proud of her outfit, she proud of herself She got the jewels all glued on her iPhone Brand new lingerie, fucking with the lights on They wrote it off cause they never tried to write home She don't even feel like she came from the right home Couple girls got her back and they hold it down They link up every night and they roll around They all tryna get out the city cause they know if they don't all they'll ever be is pretty Couple men who really treat her like they should Couple women that tell her what's really good She just tryna own this game And get out of this lonely place She just tryna do it like she wanna Smoke a couple joints and not end up like her mama Got a stack in her pillow case Racks in a hidden place Racks on racks at a cribbo in a different place She crying cause there's diamonds in her eyes And they're not clear enough to see anything but the price She about that life, she about life, fuck, but she don't know why, uh Gucci all on her wrist No church for her, Christian Dior She sold her soul for designer shit And she still spend all day inside the store Louis all on her purse No church for her, she pray for fame She sold her soul for some fancy shit And some limo rides, and some cheap champagne She so, she so, she so, she so tired Bags under both her eyes, but both of them designer She go, she go, she go, she go too hard She just tryna work, work, work But it hurt, hurt, hurts