Lyrics

[Intro: Tyler (spoken)]
Yeah, yeah
This ain’t no fuckin simp song
It’s that “buy you a Birkin, then leave it in the trunk” energy
You feel me?
I wifey… but don’t get fuckin cute with it

⸻

[Verse 1]
Look—
Met the bitch at Erewhon, oat milk and a sundress
Said she vegan but she still eat my pancakes, confess
I’m a mess, fuckin Gucci socks in the shower
But she still fuck me and hold me down like the bass at the opera

She don’t care ’bout the tour dates
She just want me on time for the soufflé
I realky fuckin love her but I ghost sometimes
Like I’m half romantic, half headline crime

[Pre-Chorus]
Yeah, she don’t like my tone
But I can change over the phone
Got a vibe, got a thang
But I told her, “this ain’t a ring, it’s a mood swing”

⸻

[Chorus]
I wifey, yeah—but only when the sky pink
She want the whole heart, I’m tryna find my missing link
I wifey, yeah—cook dinner in her Balmain
Told her “love’s a concept,” but she wore it like it’s all chain
I wifey…
But I still need space like Mars ain’t far
I wifey…
She the sunset when my thoughts too dark

⸻

[Verse 2]
She the Prada to my chaos, the calm in my static
I’m erratic—she decode me like I’m half-alphabetic
But don’t get it twisted, I ain’t cuffed like denim
I’m committed, but I still run wild in the linen

She the type to light candles when I fucking rage
Turn a breakdown to a first-class page
We ain’t goals, nah, we literature
Got problems but she make ‘em miniature

⸻

[Bridge]
Yeah, and she ain’t tryna fix me
She just sip tea, call me “baby” when I’m shifty
We different, but the vibe still match
Like Converse at the Met Gala, contrast

⸻

[Final Chorus]
I wifey, yeah—but only on a Tuesday
She call me “King,” I reply with a bouquet
I wifey, yeah—but I ghost like it’s foreplay
Love’s not linear—it’s a freeway
I wifey…
But only ‘cause she laugh when I cry
I wifey…
And she don’t even ask me why

⸻

[Outro: Tyler (spoken, beat fades)
Yeah… I guess