| You need to see way more than nigga rich, flip my bitch
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| Ho, you ain’t seen a flick of wrist, all that
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| Them bitches know that I take 'em where they get bought at
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| Where niggas ball at, all that
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| Don’t you hate that?
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| Getting calls while you’re betting on a racetrack
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| I must admit it was a little hotter that day
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| Me and the miss was on the bitter, that day
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| At the gym when I came up on that head master
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| Getting it up on the stairmaster
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| I said hold on bitch before you hit that threadmill
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| And told her some shit that probably got her wet still
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| She had a small pussy but she could still take it
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| You ain’t got to ball yet, the bitch could still make it
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| Now watch me make a toast to all that
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| With so many White girls they think it’s self hatred
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| See I keep it tied up for the lames, that’s the game
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| I prefer it fried up before I came, it’s a lane
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| While I just sit back and you and the real daddy compete for the name
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| Me in a steel Caddy report to the gang
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| Cause I been been bad, smelling her pussy you know I been
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| Maybe in the future all my hoes will be skin tagged
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| Carrying big bags before I cancel them sim bad
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| Thick head, she got some Indian in her
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| And I fucked her so good it brought out the Indian in her
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| I know my uncle be mad when it be ass instead of that
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| Niece up in the back, singing 99
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| Aim it at the game, not the player with the hatred
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| Mad she was getting hers while y’all were still dating
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| Now watch me make a toast to all that
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| With so many Black girls, they think it’s self hatred |