Westside Gunn ft. Mach-Hommy - RIP Bergdorf Lyrics

Chunky Dunkys order green lobsters
Sometimes a junky don't fiend proper
Opposition jumpy off of eavesdropping
Weed shoppers looking for smoke
We got cheap ganja, deep diver pushing a bow
She got mean knocked-ed (I fucked that bitch)
I put her in a choke, she shot three rockets
Now my bands cushion lil' soap
This not flea market (yeah), this my jawn by appointment only
Dough leave 30 grand on sweat suits, you don't know me

Ayo, in Times Square, two years, you know it's Tony
In vein and wire, hundred shots out the stoley
Pardon my slime, he just showed a brick but only nine was real
What's your life like, nigga? Mines is real (woo)
Central Park in the '90s, everybody moms on crack playing The Isleys
Take the Cartier buss off, that shit tiny

It's a black swan event, not a black tie affair
This is fashion rebel drip, no cap, buy a pair
Steve McQueen, split Dior, seems bad, Max Mara was scared
Donna Karan mascara will smear
That kinda shit will have you banned from the Met Gala
Them niggas don't lamp, they just get silent
Chanel was on Xans, I was dressed stylish
Etta was a fan, Lagerfeld doubted
Westwood had the fresh salad
I blew my wad on Vivienne face
Chloe was watching outside with the window agape, creaming
She made Thierry spray angel on semen

Ayo, where you was at when Kenneth Cole shot Gucci up?
Dapper Dan came out, thought he saw Lucifer
Tory Burch started screaming, he seen an all gold Maxima
Next thing you know, Perry Ellis hopped out, black trench coat
Looking like Blackula
Fiends on me, 'cause I cook my work with a spatula
We up in Maxfield, off the massacre
Find me at the God hour
Dick sucks from Cleopatra in the Acura
I almost crashed outta nowhere
You seen Bill blast in the Jag every winter
You the best thing I never had