(Beat Billionaire)
[Intro: Rick Ross]
You know I stick to the script
Twenty-million dollar n***a, but I do it like this
(M-M-M-Maybach Music, Maybach Music)
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!)
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (huh!)
[Hook: Rick Ross]
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap
The Rolls-Royce, it's all white
Foamposites, the LeBrons, I'm f**in' wit' the Spikes
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!)
My Jordans high-top, snapback fitted cap (whoo!)
The Rolls-Royce, it's all white
Foamposites, the LeBrons, I'm f**in' wit' the Spikes
[Verse 1: Wale]
(How can I not talk big? I got to)
(Wale, look, yeah, uh)
Ferrari mikes, b**h, I'm on my car show
My chick black and white, she ain't no dime, that b**h a Concord 11
Know I'm reppin' this, shoot and I don't ever miss
The coupe I'm in is rented, I ain't wit' all that commitment sh**
P-R-Ps is proper, couple Gs when I'm shoppin'
My girls and my SBs, got a thing for pink boxes
Shout out Frankie the Butcher, shout out Mishka in Brooklyn
That's some n***a from 10.deep ATL, I'm wit' the cooker
I ain't e'en tryin', fool, ho, I ball like private school
You bammas like Hyperstrikes, your wifey sleep outside of you
And NT my n***as, you know just we just need more sh** and
It's ironic how I drop some dough when I got them Homer Simpsons
Look, pine green Foams, they may never see the store
Got LeBron Entourages like Maverick and Richie Paul
b**h, I ball, ho, you lame, look at my Laneys, switchin' lanes
Look at my 9s, look at my Blazers, look at my 4s, cut wit' laser
Look at my who*e, that is your lady
Look at my flo', makin' y'all crazy
Makin' y'all sick, y'all cannot tame me
Lexus drive me, Maybach pay me
Salute
[Hook]
[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
Yo, I said I'm swaggin' out in my Cool Greys
No LL, but these cool J's
And my wrist froze, but I'm cool sha'
Like a bald head, I'm too paid
I'm too blazed, and I'm too high
George Kush, the whole crew high
Wrong move and that tool fly
Better calm that a** like woo-sah
It's MMG, MOB, young n***a, I been OG
Walk around wit' like 10 on me, that 5-7, that fen' on me
Don't grin on me wit' them long stares
You ain't God then there's no fear
Big money, all the hoes here, HD, I see it so clear
We j**eled out and we racked up
Phantom beep when it back up
Big bullets, look like a Mack truck
Shooters ride wit' that Mac tucked
I'm a Bad Boy, b**h, ask Puff
Sip Cîroc it's my last cup
On this sh**, I can't stand up
Catch a case and I'll man up
This Rozay, Wale, Gunplay, and that n***a Pill
In Brazil, and this sh** is real, got bad hoes and that Whip Appeal
One week and we get the deal, one day and I f**ed the b**h
My Levis, they 501, my snapback is hella bent, ha
(Hook)
[Verse 3: J. Cole]
Fresh-a** n***a, no wonder why them hoes be open
That's that n***a, so what'd I say? They okey-dokin'
How you figga? You f**in' wit' me? I hope he jokin'
I'm witcha girl, you home alone, b**h you Macauley Culkin
I'm oviedosin', ay, homie, Cole be smokin'
Then put my ashes on you n***as, bet you gon' need lotion
I'm slowly roastin', heatin' up, so you know we toastin'
f** hoes wit' no emotion, fade away like Kobe postin'
Out in Sweden, like ain't sh** that you can't tell us
Lord, forgive me, as a kid, I used to look at n***as jealous
‘Cause uh, they had them Js, and my mama wouldn't cop ‘em
Can you blame her? Hundred dollars for them b**hes want a option
Now we livin' much better, n***a, pay whatever
Rock them b**hes once then forgot about ‘em forever
My kicks like my chick, I don't need to know the numbers
You just need to know I'm comin', I'll k** you n***as this summer
Cole... Cole, World
[Hook]