| I don’t got a single sober vein in my body
|
| I don’t got a single sober vein in my body
|
| Don’t apologize, I quite enjoy messy
|
| I see that bottle after bottle got you goin' crazy
|
| And doin' shows after shows got me so lazy
|
| So ride it out for me, and take it off for me
|
| It’s a good vibe, good vibe, good vibe
|
| Don’t you ever threaten niggas with a good time
|
| She wanna buy a dream, I said I don’t sell it
|
| But she can rent it for a night, I don’t mind, open wide
|
| Cause all this fame, I earned it, I might as well use it
|
| Private elevator goin' straight to my unit
|
| All my niggas 'round me, gettin' kickback pussy
|
| All my killas 'round me, all be hiding in Stussy
|
| Can’t nobody stop me, used to be homeless
|
| Now that penthouse at the Ritz where my home is
|
| Tour bus like a National Geographic
|
| Bitches runnin' wild gettin' faded in the bathroom
|
| It makes me smile, it makes me smile
|
| Cause I got it
|
| It makes me smile, it makes me smile
|
| Cause I got it
|
| All the pain, sweat and tears, just to get a piece
|
| But now we got it
|
| Man look at the kid now, can nobody stop me
|
| I don’t got a single sober vein in my body
|
| Fuck it like a thug nigga, young nigga, new Ferrari
|
| Old money, I just 'fraid the lord with us
|
| Condo blow money, like it’s all dope money
|
| Come short wet niggas, like a speed boat coming, oh lord
|
| Mo money, mo money, these rich young niggas ain’t ever know money
|
| Bel-Air running down the Rollie on her arm
|
| Pinky ring six-hundred, what you know about it
|
| I’m the champ, baby, Real Deal Holyfield
|
| Got the bitches, want it dirty, went and bought the crib
|
| 25 mil, I’m doing 25-to-life
|
| 100 acres, keep my shooters all through the night
|
| Every chandelier rented, one-mil
|
| 20 chandelier’s moterfucker who real
|
| I just wanna show her what I live like
|
| Wearing a white burqa on a winter night
|
| Fuck a burqa now she in the Bentley
|
| That’s when she went and tatted double M G
|
| Now I ballin' deep, deeper than the rap
|
| She give me brain she a mastermind to be exact
|
| I give her game and she give it back
|
| Sip syrup so I fuck slow, sip more I wanna fuck more
|
| Gotta grind 'till your eyes close, stay strapped till the trap close
|
| They scream Maybach on the cell blocks
|
| All my dogs who used to sell Glocks
|
| They say the niggas in the jail talk
|
| How your homies commissary fell off, what make it worse he get an elbows
|
| 25-to-life dead wrong on the cell phone |