| I’m loving every minute | 
| Loving every minute of this life | 
| I feel so alive | 
| I feel so alive | 
| Put the flag in the sign | 
| Toast of my achievement | 
| I’m turning on the music frequent | 
| So far so good with the numbers and actions | 
| Looking at the figures eastern | 
| Within a hundred 40k in a week | 
| That’s the kind of form I was seekin | 
| Bad luck for songs I was leaking | 
| Now when I eat tell 'em all what I’m peeking | 
| Done the under crown battle and beefing | 
| Burn rays didn’t get paid that’s free chip | 
| Now I have a tone and the roads look teeth in | 
| Until I thank God that I been here | 
| I ain’t given up till I get there | 
| On a beat 2 children and a dead chair | 
| Came back made it I sat down I’m still Wiley | 
| But I got kids now | 
| Always on the grind no breaks in the 'lac | 
| LA in a dash, pumpin that bass in the back | 
| Lean back, can’t believe where we at | 
| Just yesterday, slanging cd’s like crack on the streets like rats | 
| Now rats wanna buy my cheese all good, you can eat the jag | 
| I’m bumping my own shit | 
| I still can’t believe it | 
| Been winning so hard | 
| My stripes is bleeding my adidas | 
| I’m living all out and I want you to feel it | 
| From the paper to the speakers | 
| To my prayers, Thank You, Jesus | 
| Round the world then back again | 
| More hits more chicks no accidents | 
| You absent, no access | 
| Here to speak as bleed when I might check | 
| Mic check 1, 2 | 
| I bless the beat hot too | 
| As uncle Snoop he was there too | 
| On a world tour, where were you? | 
| Every day I’m trucking promise I won’t stop for nothing | 
| My heart beat here like percussion | 
| But I love it all or nothing | 
| Poppin' dish with the wakers | 
| See I went in with the Lakers | 
| Put my dreams down a paper | 
| But paper bring out the haters |