| London, England, South of France
|
| And all points between they know about your man
|
| Konichiwa ladies when I’m out in Japan
|
| I’m a Tokyo Giant like Ichiro, I am
|
| Piss poor nigga from the hood but I blew
|
| Now I bounce six-fours up and down Crenshaw
|
| Spot me the hotel, the Cap', or Capri
|
| Bathrobe, slippers in the lobby like «Oui»
|
| Your man’ll stand manta ray, handlin' a steak
|
| And handlin' a model, standin' about five-eight
|
| Five-nine, fine wine, fine dine, either that
|
| Or I’m mixin' in Switzerland, tryin' to buy time
|
| Ballin' out in Bali when it’s gorgeous out in Cali
|
| Brunchin' at the 4 Seasons, off the heezy
|
| Then it’s back home, nigga, back to the zone
|
| Nigga back to the books to the rhymes that took me
|
| All around the world. |
| (same song)
|
| Brooklyn bombers (same song)
|
| Detroit players (same song)
|
| Chi-Town. |
| all around the world
|
| Said it’s all love, Shore Club, M-I-A
|
| Party at bungalow eight, when I stay
|
| Pool look like a hundred Beyonce’s
|
| A couple fiances, I’m the new DeVante
|
| Come and Talk to Me, mami in the Yves Saint
|
| Laurent, I hope, she ain’t too young
|
| Only twenty-one and older let another nigga mold her
|
| I’m just tryin' to show her how a baller and a roller
|
| Sleep one place, tell the pilot to keep the engine
|
| Runnin', then I wake up in Martha’s Vineyard
|
| St. Bart’s this year, I think I’m gon' spend Christmas
|
| Reminiscin' 'bout the time my mom couldn’t spend Christmas
|
| Now I’m gon' send her on her own little wish list
|
| Anywhere in the world, anywhere for my girl
|
| Forever my lady, blind crippled and crazy
|
| A ticket and your favourite CD — sweet Sade
|
| Sade, Sade, don’t you know I love you sweet Sade, Sade
|
| All around the world
|
| Said it ain’t where you from yo it’s where you at
|
| Real niggas out in Brooklyn, some niggas don’t clap
|
| It’s real killers out in Cali, some niggas just act
|
| Hollywood like they out the hood, it’s all to the good
|
| Real players in the D-Twa, some of them throwed
|
| Slackin' on they mackin', rest haven for hoes
|
| Real pranksters in the Chi, most of them real folks
|
| Disciplined Gangsters, come on Charlie I know
|
| Shit, it ain’t about your city or borough
|
| It’s 'bout if you really as thorough
|
| And if you are, holla at your boy
|
| I put my hand on my heart, that means I feel you
|
| Real recognize real and you lookin' familiar
|
| I’m a Bed-Stuy nigga but I do it to death
|
| I promise I’m in St. Thomas homie eatin' at Chef’s
|
| One-twelve, A-T-L, the sun up yet?
|
| Then we party like the sun don’t set
|
| We gon' take you all around the world. |
| it’s the same song (same song)
|
| Everywhere (same song)
|
| It’s the same song (same song)
|
| We gon' take you all around the world. |
| same song (same song)
|
| Same song (same song)
|
| Same song (same song)
|
| All around the world. |