Introducting the Icon Lyrics

Yo, wanna know something about my right arm?
I done flex so hard, I set off fire alarms
The fireplace's outta space with a lion's belt
Big jewels on myself with the tiger smell
Straight out the jungle, sting like kiss
Ice real cool, top lip frostbit
'Cause now I write Clark Gable on my cable bill
Bill Cosby on my couch out in Nashville
Pam couch met her orange on the cornfields
High fructose concentrated pepper spill
She was grabbin' on my schlong doing handstands
Hey Julia Stiles, save the last dance
Second glass started, birds in my bottle
Only 3 stay forever, that's 10%
I can do the math but I choose to take a nap
Front yard hovercraft on Versace raft
Dry land, Swedish field by palm trees
Bitch, I could sing a hook like Alicia Keys

New pants, 40 grands on the next land
I'm the white Gucci Mane with a spray tan
Big bottles don't wait, you shouldn't tooWhat the fuck a wife do? No wedding shoes, no wedding shoes
What the fuck a wife do? No wedding shoes, no wedding shoes
What the fuck a wife do? No wedding shoes
Who you? Who come through doing kung-fu
Jinjitsu, eating kung pow when the thunder storm, tornado, side symbol on my Guess jeans
You on the guest list? You wanna French kiss? I gotta double check your French tips
Hygiene clean, Eugene, dream, I dream shake like Hakeem Olajuwon
Diplo trippin' talkin' 'bout
"You gotta focus on the lyrics in your songs, a lot is riding on this album"
Maaaaan, fuck that, gimme piece of chain or medallion
Candy-gray Maybach, her ass stay flat
"You really shouldn't say that"
Man, it's Riff Raff 30k or better when I touch stage
Girl, I crush the stage, rich kids bum-rush the stage
Broke whores get rich too, trade-in Isuzus, buy new friends too, remove tattoos
I rock turtleneck in the see-through
It's a clear turtleneck (cottle-check) Versace Glock in my glove box
Make sure that I gotta custom-built house with the waterslide
From the top floor to the living room Jacuzzi
Electric maid cleans the house Jetson Judy, big booty
You can be 18 with some soft handsAw shit look who it is, it's the Gucci Man with the spray tan
Wait, let's go back to the part near the start where you was talkin' 'bout the cleanliness underneath the fingernails
Any bad bitches? That's an epic fail, can't do that, who's that, who's who
I can ball at the mall, shoot hoops too, whole crew rockin' suits made my Bruce Bruce
And my wood wheel is a Bruce fruce
She had a vibe I could vibe with,
While we was flying had to go sit by the pilot, cause she smelled like Rikers Island
Straight mack, straight stiff arm
Could I get some RiFF promotion? Man where the fuck my label at?
It's Riff Raff, hit a couple lines of rice
'Cause I'm tryna get my six-pack back, you should move packs at your preschool
No common sense, but I don't sit on the bench, rap game Johnny Bench, who my fans clench?
Waiting on my chance to ball, waiting on you to fall off softly
Used to move ounces through my counselor's office
8 ball in my back pocket but I do not play pool
Play by the pool, 10 10 babe's drool while I lay by the ooh man, just working on my skin tone
The fuck you expect from the butterscotch boss when I floss,
Rap game Randy Moss in the cotton candy Buick sittin' on Brazilian gloss
Riff, hope you ready for that Neon Icon, it just dropped right now
Came through in the Benz bright brown
Songwriters
Horst SimcoPublished by
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.