Petty Songtext / Lyric

Who do it hotter in Prada?

I ain't from N.Y., do it +M-Y Way+, so Sinatra

You know my {?} not proper for the Oscars

But I opt out for the Oxfords in the Oxford

... Ha ha, that hurts

Some'n by this oar got 'em tippin they fedoras

Got the ladies bein whores cause we're ballin out stores

I coordinate on e'rything I wore

So ladies know him now say, "That was him before"

Fresh as the core in my Christian Diors



[Chorus]






[Obie Trice]

Got me smellin like Chanel

Well, that's my female, shorty gets that mail

In them transparent 90-millimeter heels

In them Red Bottoms showin off them Christian Lou-B's

Heels... that's real

E-e-e'rything 'bout her scream Dolce & Gabanna

with the bowlin ball bag showin out at Caribana

Lil' mama, she a stunner

Tweed dress on, no panties up under

Catch her on Queens Street ballin at the boutiques, holla



[Chorus]



[Obie Trice]

BME, Black Market Entertainment

Obie Trice (Obie Trice, Obie Trice)

New shit... so bent



Guess the man lucky, she ain't glam luxury

We as a couple get +Fresher+ than Douglas E.

Double up on my duds where the logos be

So Polo duplicate on me, guess that's why they hate Obie

They can see



[Chorus]



[Outro]

I'm petty {*4X*}