| Feel me? Let’s talk about money, nigga |
| These niggas be talkin' too much 'bout that other shit, nigga |
| I don’t know 'bout that |
| Yo' |
| Came out the trap with a brace on |
| Limp to the Benz, why the fuck would I race y’all? |
| Bitch in the back tryna top, let her face off |
| I’m countin' bands, switchin' lanes, tryna chase God |
| I just left the bank with M’s |
| When you get this money, you don’t need no friends |
| Bustin' off the top, I don’t need no pen |
| Smokin' out the pound, I don’t need no tens |
| Tints hella dark in this Aston |
| Been mad far since the jump, can you splash it |
| Can’t love a thot, I remain old fashion |
| Talkin' on the 'Gram, but won’t bring no action, yo' |
| If you a bitch, then I’m taxin' |
| Go bring my ten 'hind the fence, bring the packs in |
| No, I’m not rich, but my diamonds is flashin' |
| You niggas hate 'cause you can’t get no cash in, uh |
| Bro hit the stands, go forty |
| Ain’t no more pain in this range, oh lordy |
| Came with a brain, man, I love your shorty |
| Ain’t Santa Claus, but I think she naughty, uh |
| We could put your mans on the news |
| Spend a couple bands on these damn Prada shoes |
| Diamonds really swimmin', yeah, they ran on the cruise |
| Aquafina drippin', how the fuck could I lose? I can’t |
| Don’t got no one to thank |
| I just hopped in my bag and made sure my fam ate all day |
| What the fuck can you say, nigga? Tell me |
| I’m smokin' loud, you can smell me, you should |
| I’m good, I’m hood |
| You been mad, but it’s all understood, we straight |
| Thank God he good |
| In a Jag, I’m on the damn interstate, uh |
| Jolly Rancher in my Faygo, Daygo |
| Niggas know they never really play though, hate though |
| Fuckin' count the bands in your face, ho', I do it |
| Niggas, they talk, but don’t go through it |