SoNo by Junior Lyrics

Ha, Fake ass niggas talking about they stylists' and shit
Nigga you styling who?
We both gonna have to take L's for this one

You always talking, never saying nothing
You steady spraying, niggas stay bluffing
Come fuck with us cause we stay puffin
Always dressing up. You want a stage or something?

This is not a game, I stay stuntin
You better stick to court, with them J's scuffin
Got the flame hand, missing 3's, no buckets
Got your skirt showin, it's cool just tuck it

Bottles, bottles, on deck
Rose gold chain on my neck
Just wait for my next check
Street fashion will catch wreck

You gone see me in that Juun J
Last season but it's Juun J
Why you still dressing like it's June K?
I wanna see you in new shit today
We off that, it's fall now
Imma let you slide, maybe it's May today
Hit him wit that: It may be lay
To be honest, i'm not lying looking at you is like a 90's replay


Stick to the lay-ups, Until you get your lay up
Fuck with me imma hang you up
Like that the out of trend shit, on that coat hanger tip

I would say see you at NY Fashion Week
But I can't, Donna tell him, his fashion's weak
Nigga, you can't pass for chic
With thite tee's looking like my fucking matress sheets

Versace Versace I'm sorry to tell you that's not how you say it (Givenchy)
My everything's O1 it's bout time that you pay it

Yah - my style got a copyright
Guess this nigga didn't learn how to copy right
He on that FUBU, that oowoo, that who knew, he tried it
Boo you, those Sam's shoes, yup Adams, where'd you find it?


That hat contest, I won that shit
This fashion shit, I run this shit bitch
Oh you want style? Sorry, can't
Trademark, I own that shit
I'm bout to straight up Naiomi Campbell your stupid ass
If I get some new shoes you might luck up, earn a fucking class
These colors, they don't go together;
I really thought that you'd know better
You should know better - wait! I heard you styling those niggas EPIC!

Red yellow green - you robin
Black on black you poppin
Denim jacket just to bop in
All white show stopin

Pastels, that's my top end
All them other colors, fuck them other colors
That's what I be rockin', that's what I'm rockin'
Hold up hold up

I'm just saying nothing fancy, MK on my wrist
While you stylin', I meant lyin', I'll put my hair in twist
I won't lie; I love that bitch Coco
Sorry to tell you, your style won't make it in SoHo

I'm stylin' from Alexander McQueen
Dior to Loubitin
Got Marc Jacobs on my hip
Gucci Prada ain't my shit
Mary Quant was not that rich
De La Renta sure can stitch
Balmain I'll take that trip
For Ferragamos on my tip
Imma have to hit em with that double pleat
Got layers on, got layers on
Yohji Yamamato, Y-3 on my feet
Meat ass niggas imma hit repeat

You just real neat (4x)

I'm not just coming for that clown nigga who took my title
I'm not gone worry cause deep down I'm still his idol

Runnin' town with my Hanns on
Got the fucking Ray blinds on
Never catch me with Brons on
Stick a pin in you, watch your head deflate, it was time for it

I'll end you with that monochrome
That Nautica that Rag & Bone
Fuck Tommy, Ralph and Calvin
From Milan and London

Fendi Fendi, damn I want some Fendi
I'm thinking bout gettin a pleated coat
A leather bag and male tote
Comme des Garcons this hommie playin'
Come the fuck on what the hell you slayin'?

Nigga this cause you said my name
Thought my name would take you straight to fame
But you sellin pills, I'm designing lines
3, 2, 1 Phillip Lim, Parsons, Ssense life

I'm comin, for, his knees (Hoo-Ah)
Its 90, dee fucking grees (Hoo-Ah)
Said oh my god don't do it please
Still rockin' dingy Levi jeans

I'm about to take you to a Public School
Kanye teach him something, he don't know the rules
My pants ain't neva even seen the ground
Got my ankles out, yeah my cankles brown

Imma get like Jimmy and Chew you up
Spit you out, sew you up
Anything you wear imma show you up
Zac, tell these posers what the fuck is up