[Intro: Pouya]
Yuh
Yuh
Buffet Boys
Yuh, yuh
Yuh
Yuh
[Hook: Fat Nick x2]
I'm global now, I know it
I'm trappin' hard, feds know it
Pourin' mud, no clone sh**
Gettin' money yeah I know it
Hell yeah yeah, we know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah I know it
Hell hell yeah, we know it
f**ed his b**h and he ain't know it
[Verse 2: Germ]
Back with the mac, splat in the back
Goonies in the cut, high land, high wax
Toss bombs at your moms, raw-doggin' the law
No problems at all, no scars when I fall
Give a f** bout yo b**h, give a f** bout yo ho
Snap low with the chrome, loaded Desert
Have it ready to let a n***a have it
Sleep a n***a top like some motherf**ing cabbage
I never been a nine-to-five type of guy
Just me and five guys stickin' up the Five Guys
Real high puffin lala
[?] off the lala
I don't want no [?] if it ain't no wifi
My vision HDMI when I puff lye
No lie, you can hold mine
My nuts special like a gold mine
Wear em on your necklace
Tell em when your chest been
Bunch of [?] in my session
[Verse 3: Pouya]
Yuh, yuh
You braggin', claimin' that you hard with the Glock
You always walkin' with a flock of boys
Ready to pop off top, no questions
Step into anybodies direction
That's the s**in' every f** boy that enter your section
Well check this out, I got a bank account
With a decent amount
Pop out the clip if you slick in the mouth
f** on that b**h, then that b**h gotta bounce
Cause I'm G-L-O-B-A-L
You can tell that we living well
Three hoes bu*t naked in the shower
Waiting for me in the hotel
Slangin' tees to my clientele
Young b**h, s** dick, never show and tell
We are not the same, we are not parallel
You don't want pressure with my personnel
f** boy slip in hell is where you fenna dwell
Yuh b**h
[Chorus: Pouya & Germ]
Cause I'm G-L-O-B-A-L
You can tell that we living well
f** n***a (8)
[Verse 4: Yung Simmie]
Paper stacker
Gotta get it, cause that's all I know
Lean got me moving slow
Your b**h just hit my line
Say I need to hit her line some more and spend some time some more
But I just want my dough
Running through the streets with my bros
And they all gon' glo
This ain't what you want
My n***as is k**ers
They k**ing for fun
They like to put bodies in trunks
I'm like Shaq when I dunk
Coulda wore a size ten how I stomp
Got bullets like fingers get thump
I'm smoking on gas no pump
While Aston Kutcher a** n***as get Punk'd on a daily basis
I check my shoe laces
Can't slip cause I don't lose races
Level up cause you too basic
Just face it, you couldn't even get her naked
Now she f** with a famous n***a
Got your b**h feeling famous
I could never love a b**h
Man I'm sticking to the basics
[Verse 5: Mikey the Magician]
Yo b**h look like [?]
When pops had the business
You know I'm global like all them Olympics
Mike the Magician, that boy so terrific
They call me Mark Cuban, I give them the business
I'm bout to pull out the fire like the chef
f** up a fan, I feel like Ron Artest
I did it before b**h I'll do it again
Don't come at me sweet
I don't wanna make friends
Hit you with the piledriver nine, Hulk Hogan
Who you know that do it like the f**ing Nike slogan
Ima cold motherf**er
Leave your opposition frozen
Then I drop the body by the ocean eleven
Then going to heaven
I hand him a gun and then stop
I'll leave a playa wetter than a b**h in flip flops
You a b**h
Soak it in and go and buy you some tampons
Global day forever and ever [?]
[Hook: Fat Nick x2]