[Verse 1]
Frail faces showing signs of rejection, you broads stressin
I guess I'm still Da Baddest yea that's what I'm guessin (uh)
Pineapple Ciroc a double shot of white
I got a bag full of money that will change up ya life
Fort Knox in the basement, gold bars forever
Lyrics turn to bars they'll remember me forever (yeah)
Short change is what I call them broads
I got acres in my crib, book these shows on my lawn
Red Eye flights, Miami here I come
I only fornicate with bread cause that money make me cum
See that villa out in Cali, mansion on the mountain
I slide this pussy on him call it slidin down the mountain (uh)
Pussy whipped but all I see is the crown, stiletto Louboutins, Hermes gown
You bum bitches don't make a sound cause when my flight touch ground I shut yo whole city down
You hoes wanted to rap, I wanted to shop
So I sat in the trap and I cooked up the blocks
Made blocks squares, now I'm pushin a yacht
To mansion with spiral stairs, to a Palm Beach out in Laud (yeah)
(Huh) I gotta whole lotta everything, never married but a whole lotta wedding rings
From rappers and ball players that smelt the g-string
Groupie niggas who I turned household names
Street bitch and I been bout money
If I had to be honest I don't need this rap money
Cause the pussy gone sell more than rap show money
Fuck I need a pimp for CEOing my money (preach)
(Yeah) and you a rap bitch dummy, and a lil dick nigga can't do nothing for me
And I still don't know nann bitch who can come for me
These bum ass bitches Kevin Hart mad funny
Frail faces showing signs of rejection, you broads stressin
I guess I'm still Da Baddest yea that's what I'm guessin (uh)
Pineapple Ciroc a double shot of white
I got a bag full of money that will change up ya life
Fort Knox in the basement, gold bars forever
Lyrics turn to bars they'll remember me forever (yeah)
Short change is what I call them broads
I got acres in my crib, book these shows on my lawn
Red Eye flights, Miami here I come
I only fornicate with bread cause that money make me cum
See that villa out in Cali, mansion on the mountain
I slide this pussy on him call it slidin down the mountain (uh)
Pussy whipped but all I see is the crown, stiletto Louboutins, Hermes gown
You bum bitches don't make a sound cause when my flight touch ground I shut yo whole city down
You hoes wanted to rap, I wanted to shop
So I sat in the trap and I cooked up the blocks
Made blocks squares, now I'm pushin a yacht
To mansion with spiral stairs, to a Palm Beach out in Laud (yeah)
(Huh) I gotta whole lotta everything, never married but a whole lotta wedding rings
From rappers and ball players that smelt the g-string
Groupie niggas who I turned household names
Street bitch and I been bout money
If I had to be honest I don't need this rap money
Cause the pussy gone sell more than rap show money
Fuck I need a pimp for CEOing my money (preach)
(Yeah) and you a rap bitch dummy, and a lil dick nigga can't do nothing for me
And I still don't know nann bitch who can come for me
These bum ass bitches Kevin Hart mad funny
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