Niggas pop tags, I pop the fo’-five
Niggas got swag, I got the Tek-9
Niggas got cash better run it
Only dubs and hundreds, I don’t do fifties, nigga
And I don’t do 50-year-old Jiggas
Off that boss black Lamborghini, interior soft crack
Louis V golf hat, feelin’ like a Tiger
I made something out of nothin’ like MacGuyver
Started from an eighth, flipped it to a ki
I got ‘em like ay, trappin’ like Gucci
Plus I get more green than bleu cheese
And I keep a red bandana in my blue jeans
So, nigga calm your nerves, with all that absurd
Far from the curb bullshit-slash-spoken word
You nerd
I’m from the same city as Venus and Serena
So don’t get served
I’m so wavy, homie no yacht
Ain’t no “Big Pimpin’” on my block
But I’m an underground king, peace to Pimp C
Catch me ridin’ through the hood, 20-10 Bentley
You got cheese and I kill rats
Translation: I still trap
Now do something with that
Or respond to this
And with them big-ass lips
You got my name in your mouth
I hope it tastes like this—Ahh
No homo, one more time—Ahh
That’s your promo
And I been hard to the core since I went solo
Only man on my horse like my all-black Polo
And where I’m ’bout to go is usually a no-no
But I’m loco, got the camel in a chokehold
Tryna son me, I’m not from NYC
You can’t even have a child by your Destiny
And I ain’t mean to that a shot at Bey
I’m blacked out like you did Free
‘Cause I’m so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
Rock more red than Weezy Baby
Please say the Baby
I been around for years, so bitch, don’t Drake me
And this is not a diss
‘Cause I was just out in LA with Drake, bitch
And no disrespect to G and Hip-Hop
But nigga I’m a G and I’m doing this for hip-hop
And that’s ‘Ye’s brother, and ‘Ye my nigga so
I’ma give him some advice: Get rid of Amber Rose!
I’ma tell you how she get down
I was at Dig’s afterparty, sippin’ Cris
She was whisperin’ to Chris Brown
I seen Chris turn his head like “No!”
Then “Gold Digger” came on, I pointed like, “Hoe!”
But this ain’t ’bout her, this about Hov
I’ma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
I apologize to Bey, ’cause this about Hov
I’ma chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
“D.O.A.?” No!
T-Pain stays, old nigga goes
I’m so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
All up in your ear like Drake be
So nigga the cut ‘Ye couldn’t fade me
You took a shot and the shit grazed me
I wet up your block just like the Navy
Put a label on the shit and write “Play Me”
DJs go in, DJs go in
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