| Diplomatic immunity, fuck 'em
|
| All that peace and that unity
|
| All that weak shit’ll ruin me, fuck 'em, yeah
|
| 'Cause niggas started talkin' to me like I’m slowin' down
|
| Opinions over statistics, of course
|
| Gassed off journalistic
|
| Come at me and all you’ll get is the ballistic report
|
| Booked a private room at Wylie’s, waiter twistin' the cork
|
| I got multi-colored rings like the Olympics, of course
|
| At award shows, cuttin' through the tension, of course
|
| Girls huggin' me then askin' me, «what scent that is, boy?»
|
| I be walkin' around the Six, like I invented it, boy
|
| Yeah, who am I? |
| The do or die, the one with the fewest lies
|
| And the truest ties, they try to compare us but
|
| Like a job straight out of high school
|
| There’s no you and I
|
| I taught you everything you know, now you got student pride
|
| All factual
|
| I call the house, the embassy
|
| The studio, the chapel, I hate to travel
|
| I just pulled up on Solana show, the girl’s a natural
|
| I knew her way back when Hollywood was international
|
| Yeah, the furthest I’ve been, that’s word to my ends
|
| Word to the flags that belong in the hood of my 'Benz
|
| Very presidential, I broke all the codes for zonin' in my residential
|
| I broke spirits that I never meant to
|
| My body isn’t much of a sacred temple, with vodka and wine
|
| And sleep at the opposite times
|
| Promise shit is gettin' out of line, like when you make a stencil
|
| Or getting out of line, like when you break a pencil
|
| Violatin' the treaty of Versailles, champagne is the alias, but no cease and
|
| desist in I
|
| I refuse to comply with regulations, I listen to heavy metal for meditation,
|
| no silence
|
| Like Sanders on the Detroit Lions
|
| Get a run around and I’ll bury you where they won’t find you
|
| Motor City Casino, I’m at the cage with my old license
|
| They tell me «don't worry, I got your money"like Osirus
|
| (I'm the Osiris of this shit)
|
| Dirty 30, workin' on me
|
| Tired of women that may tag me in pictures, airin' my dirty laundry
|
| Caterin' is from Giorgio Baldi, Robyn’s favorite
|
| Shit is nice, but I prefer Madeo
|
| Calamari rings and tomato
|
| I got the sauce and now shorty’s keep claimin' «preggo»
|
| Waking up at 6 PM like «where does the day go?»
|
| Forecastin' tornadoes, brainstormin' retaliation at dinner tables
|
| 2010 was when I lost my halo
|
| 2017 I lost a J. Lo
|
| A Rotterdam trip had me on front page, though
|
| I had to lay low, Hot Topic like your everyday clothes
|
| Closed off but I could never stay closed
|
| Billboard awards, I claimed 13 out in Vegas like Sureños
|
| Black excellence, but I guess when it comes to me it’s not the same though
|
| All goodie, that just pushed me to do the things we all couldn’t
|
| Niggas stakin' out the crib, it’s all gravy
|
| Protection that God gave me
|
| Shit is complex like short niggas 'round tall ladies
|
| I gotta watch who I’m talkin' to like it’s all agents
|
| I’ve seen buddin' careers turn to sit around and talk about other careers,
|
| judgin' their peers
|
| Knowledge from niggas who did not contribute to none of this here
|
| Cover my ears, my security government tier
|
| Yeah, advance the venue so we know the exits
|
| Check the guest list, if opps make an appearance at least it’s expected
|
| Tell ‘em I don’t want to link like a broken necklace
|
| I’ll be in better company with my own reflection
|
| Mirror, mirror, on the ceilin' of my suite in the Royal Palace
|
| The TV playin' Al Jazeera
|
| Inshallah, I hope the mission keeps on gettin' clearer
|
| Whenever, wherever, OVO will always be together like Shakira
|
| I love, I love
|
| I love, I love it
|
| Baby, I |