| Talking money, getting Mike in new pair of Nikes
|
| They said life was a bitch so I made her my wife
|
| I’m talking holy matrimony 'til some other fucking money
|
| Them other boys is talking but I swear to God they phony
|
| Fuckboys crazy, nothing but
|
| That’s why my motto to this day is still 'Fuck you, pay me'
|
| Any rap nigga acting like he want it with me
|
| I swear to God I’ll put his rapping-ass next to Biggie
|
| I swear to God I’ll put his rapping-ass next to Pac
|
| Martin Luther King, nigga, certified by the block
|
| Gold 54 riding all chrome, big block
|
| And the paint so wet I’m in need of a mop
|
| Black and yellow Chevy and it’s looking like a bumblebee
|
| My partner came through in his Gellardo trying to humble me
|
| I left, came back, Murciélago straight stunting G
|
| When he seen me bending left, nigga must have shit hisself
|
| Gucci shirt, Gucci jeans, Gucci this, Gucci that
|
| Before I walk out the house, everything gotta match
|
| I ride through this bitch with a pocket full of money
|
| I bet no nigga won’t say nothing in front me
|
| I went and bought a Benz and went and got a bike
|
| Went and stopped by the paint shop then sprayed 'em cold white
|
| Them 24-inches man, you know what it is
|
| A nigga put 'em on so my shit’ll look big
|
| I’m a certified goon, I be putting in work
|
| I ride with the cannon cause I be doing hella dirt
|
| I’m the all black fitted with them all-black swatches
|
| Pushing through the ghetto running from the paparazzi
|
| All the hood niggas love me
|
| The price on the coke, nigga, it look so lovely
|
| I’m a thug 'til I die
|
| The club ain’t poppin' if these bitches ain’t high
|
| You know me
|
| Trina, Lil Kim, Mariah
|
| Rihanna even Mýa
|
| Got reps like singing cheques
|
| A whip for each desire
|
| They told me never to burn a bridge but I still keep a lighter
|
| Ain’t met a former friend that proved he can compete with fire
|
| And the paint so wet I gotta park my cars inside a dam
|
| So fly my clothing line should be called the 'Mileage Plan'
|
| Metal inside my hand promise it ain’t no trying fam
|
| That Marvel comic baby
|
| (What you mean?)
|
| That Iron Man
|
| That Maserati body parked right there outside the lobby
|
| P-O-P to your body if you ever trying to try me
|
| And the paint soaked c-c-candy ladies wanna lick my like a lolli-
|
| P-O-P so my hobby is to sit behind a Jolly-
|
| Rancher, look at my swagger, my name is more than known
|
| My garage the square footage of the Georgia Dome
|
| Got imported stones, always order chrome
|
| Every other week my ride is gonna be exactly what I want it on |