Order of Operations Big Boi (Ft. Eric Bellinger)

[Chorus: Eric Bellinger]
Wake up, fresh, crease, jeans, get to the fucking money
Roll up, smoke, pour up, drink, right back to the money
Pull up, stunt, turn up, leave, more motherfucking money
Go hard, go home, wake up, repeat, order of operations
Order of operations

[Verse 1: Big Boi]
So what if I told ya that I was a cold soldier
That give 'em the cold shoulder? These hoes been getting over
On these niggas like Olympic hurdle jumpers
They trying to get that Gold, portfolios diverse
This type of paper just don't fold
Or get throwed in the booty club flexing
With hootie hoo them hoes and have them glued to the section (HOOTIE-HOO) Ain't nothing new, that's just us oozing perfection
Been stacking up, clipping this paper like Mary Lou Retton
While nigga be stressing about this money, I retire my dear mama
Been fucking up some commas way before I could buy a bottle
Of liquor, looking like the lotto my nigga, but we don't flash it
I balled throughout my twenties, by thirty, see I was stashing, yeah

[Interlude]
First hundred-thousand, I bought a Lexus
First million, I was twenty, I learned my lesson
I bought some land
Operation Grind and Stack