NEW HIGH

[Chorus: Yeat]

New high, new high, yeah

New high, paid for all that she like

You say you like old fashion, you say you like vintage (Vintage, uh)

You like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like)

[Verse 1: Yeat]

You like to only call when it appropriate to you (Ah, hoo)

You act like it's mirrors around, cause all I see is through (Through, ooh)

Yeah, let's go back to Beverly Hills (Hills)

Yeah, let's go back to when you was in your feels (Feel)

I'm inside 'em big trucks, baby, huh (Baby)

Promise, I count big bucks, baby, huh (Baby, uh)

Promise, I won't fuck with them, baby, huh (I won't)

Come outside, baby, I'm not crazy, baby (Ooh)

Yeah, and I could pull up with diamonds, 24/7, not Rick Owen (Rick Owen)

I was tryna tell you we never miss, like free throw (Bang)

On the opps I get four M's, I'm like, "Oh my God, I need those"

And I like when you pull a bend-over, yeah, when you're reachin' your toes

Lyfestyler, a lavish lyfestyler

Yeah we get you cooked like you motherfuckin' rice now (Ah)

I move through life— move through life slow

Don't listen to, don't listen to the fan

Iced out with mink coat, invented like my flow

Why would I fuck with 'em? They don't get paid half my show

All white, all white, all white, like The Pope

All we do is sit on the snow

[Chorus: Yeat]

New high, new high, yeah (Snow)

New high, paid for all that she like

You say you like old fashion, you say you like vintage (Vintage, uh)

You like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like)

[Verse 2: Don Toliver]

I get Ricky denim, yes, a lot, like, come on

A bag full of cash, you can smell that I'm on

My lifestyle crazy, I can't talk on the phone

I whip it out the pot, it look like Grey Poupon

Check up on my diamonds, and, ooh, she was crazy

Wanna get your girl, 'cause she just keep on starin'

I took way too many shrooms, this shit is really scary

And way too much drank, I'm drinkin' apparently

You said you like fashion, she say she like vintage

Hit her from the back, pullin' her extensions

She callin' her man up, I am not to mention

She just went from rags, then booted up to riches

[Chorus: Yeat]

New high, new high, yeah

New high, paid for all that she like

You say you like old fashion, you say you like vintage (Vintage, uh)

You like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like), you like (You like)