[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]