[Intro: 1900Rugrat & Nancy Sinatra]
And you keep lying when you oughta be truthing (Tarik)
And you keep losing when you oughta not bet (Yeah, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh)
These boots are made for walking (Hold on, huh)
And that's just what they'll do (And my shit hold 24 like Kobe)
One of these days (R.I.P.), these boots are gonna walk all over you (And I'm high as fuck, like—)
Yeah, hold on, huh-uh (Ayo, really?)
Come on

[Verse: 1900Rugrat & Nancy Sinatra]
My bitch, she bad, no makeup
No lashes, right off of the wake-up, huh (Brr)
I heard they sleep, better wake up, huh (Come on)
I serve 'em brown like K-Cup, huh (Yeah)
Perc' got me itchin' my faced up, huh
Damn, huh, yeah, huh
Perc' got me itchin' my faced up, huh (Dumbass)
I serve 'em brown like K-Cup, huh
Damn, huh, yeah, huh
I been too T'd, better face it, uh-huh
I fixed the broke door, give it a facelift
Keep the strap on me like a gay bitch
I slide through the K, and I'm lettin' my 'K rip, damn, huh, yeah (Buh-buh-buh-buh-buh)
Slide through the K, and I kept me a 'K, then it's KK, Wiz Khalifa
I took a vacay right to Ibiza
Money counter, and that bitch steady beapin' (Go)
I'm too baked like a needer (Get goin')
I'm too baked like a needer (Get out of there)
I'm too baked like a needer, huh (Get out of there)
Unc' askin', "Where the needles?" (Uh-huh)
Uh-huh, grab the glass, auntie fiendin' (Come here)
Huh, grab the glass, auntie tweakin'
Huh, damn, uh-huh
.762s singin' like The Weeknd (Uh-huh)
Red tip, .45 like Karrueche (Buh)
Bought her a pink Ruger, match her coochie (Haha)
Slidin' too fast like go back to the future
I got this .40 on me like—, pfft (Buh, buh)
I got this .40 on me like—, pfft (Like, huh?)
I got this .40 on me, I'll do you
Huh, pop another 10, huh, feel it in my stomach, huh (Yeah, huh)
She ain't from the block, but I let her hold my Jenny, huh (Yeah, come on)
She grant all my wishes, huh, she might call me Timmy, huh (Huh, huh)
She grant all my wishes, huh, might call her a genie, huh (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
Perc' done got me itchin', itchin', itchin', but I ain't feindin', huh
She been in her Twiz & Tuck shit, somethin' like the Beagle, huh
I just pulled up with the bag, we all up in the Beamer
Whip, two-seater, if you run up on me wrong, that Glock gon' beat you, uh-huh
Like Michael Jackson, I'm on the block for real, why you cappin'? (Boots are made for walking)
I just pulled with a stick, all in traffic (And that's just what they'll do)
If he play, I'ma do that boy nasty (Buh)
Dirty, huh, huh (Boots are made for walking), just like my Glock, just like a Perky
You gon' get popped, cut up like surgery (And that's just what they'll do)
I got a track on the Glock
Bitch better not be cappin', gon' pop
I got the— (Yeah, uh)
Pfft, I got this .40 on me like Osama (Osama, ugly ass)
It finna blow, gon' wipe that boy nose
Bitch, I need that whole bad bitch (Osama, ugly ass), I'm finna go (I'm finna get it on)
Bitch, I'm from the L, I ain't from the O (Osama, ugly ass)
But I got this .762 with a drum on it, and that bitch there look like a O (Buh, like a O)
It hold a 50, I'm in your city, right with that glizzy (Huh?)
Leave that boy shitted, right with the semi' (Huh?)
Bitch, I don't even need no switchy
That bitch go, "Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh, buh. buh, buh" (Buh, buh, buh, buh, buh)
[Outro: 1900Rugrat]
Buh, brrt, buh, buh, buh
Walk down, walk down
Face shot, buh, buh
Haha, yo, that bitch finna blow up, haha, I swear to God, haha