Designer stuff lyrics

[Intro]
Is that zombiebookclub?

[Verse 1: punkinloveee]
Feel me up, if I'm in the club, you know I'm coked up
Flexin' stuff, who wants smoke with us? My haters broke as f*ck
Let's get high on drugs, give her designer drugs, she loves designer stuff
Rick Owens jeans, not big ass Truey jeans, I rock the finer stuff
A string of diamonds on my neck and they dance like Elvis Presley
I just got a check and I blew it all already
Zombie Gang, Zombie Gang, your clique is so lame
Laughin' out the bank, laughin' out the bank, straight to the club
Why won't you leave mе 'lone? Leave mе 'lone, please don't lead me on
They wanna know where I go, I'm in my bag and I'm still goin'— (He-he, g0r3)

[Verse 2: g0r3]
Let's go, Zombie Gang, yeah, I said f*ck the fame (I said f*ck the fame)
You can see it in my face, I ain't playin' games (Playin' games)
Let's go hit a stain, bust some motherf*ckin' brains
On my wrist, a Plain Jane, big stuff, get out my face (Out my face)
Throwin' fifties, throwin' hunnids 'cause money don't mean nothing
And I'm chillin' out with punkin, already know we up to somethin'
Don't test me to see if I'm bluffin', wipe your nose and get to runnin'
I stop drinkin' Henessy, I start drinkin' Rémy
Rémy bottles coming in, f*ck it up, we spend our bands
I'ma do it all again, little boy, you play pretend
[Verse 3: h3artcrush]
b*tch, I want some brains
Popped three today
b*tch, I'm finna bang, bang
I'm a zombie, f*ck the fame
b*tch, I'm stackin' up cash
b*tch, this f*ckin' ho is annoying
Dropping dead in the club
b*tch, I'm feelin' gory
Redneck shawty
And she all up on me
And I pull up at the club, b*tch
In a f*ckin' 'Rari