| Why not? | 
| Yeah, I like, I like that shit
 | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not?
 | 
| All this money in my pocket got me…
 | 
| Yo, I copped two bottles and they both for me
 | 
| Niggas hating and I bag them quick like groceries
 | 
| Every track I make’s a masterpiece
 | 
| I make 'em say uhh like Master P
 | 
| I see what niggas is doing, so fuck it, I’m doing it better
 | 
| They taking what’s hot, duplicate it and drop it
 | 
| They flow be the same, but they’re changing their letters
 | 
| And then they got one line and one verse and one song
 | 
| That people remember that’s clever and they go like this, hold up
 | 
| My bars so cold, I wear one thousand sweaters
 | 
| House party at my nigga crib
 | 
| I never let a side bitch find out where I live
 | 
| I only fuck with fans, I need a dick rider
 | 
| I pick her up then drop her off, like a hitchhiker
 | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not?
 | 
| All this money in my pocket
 | 
| Made me feel like why not?
 | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not? | 
| Why not?
 | 
| I know, can’t nobody stop me
 | 
| So I’m yelling why not?
 | 
| Why not?
 | 
| My middle finger up, to let these niggas know
 | 
| Your bitch sucking on me, like a chicken bone
 | 
| I hit that shit, then do my happy dance
 | 
| I’m killing all these rappers, call an ambulance
 | 
| No, really though, who is you kidding?
 | 
| Them writtens is awfully shitty
 | 
| It’s twenty fourteen, you rap like Mase and Diddy
 | 
| There’s no marathon, but I’m running my city
 | 
| You can find me in the club, just like fifty
 | 
| I’m rubbing her tittes, you not fucking with me
 | 
| You trying to slang all these singers and models
 | 
| My nigga, I’m just trying to bang Oprah Winfrey
 | 
| Play her my song, I know she gon' love it
 | 
| I hit her at her house, we call that homecoming
 | 
| Silk sheets, Versace, Versace, Versace, Versace, Squad
 | 
| Fuck all of that shit that you talking 'bout
 | 
| I’m never gonna join Illuminati |