[Intro]
Woo, uh, bitch, huh (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
It's one, two, three, four, five hundred carats on the scene (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
(One, two, three, four, I done traveled the world on they ass)
One, two, three, four, five hundred carats (Suck my dick)
Yeah (Grrah)
[Chorus]
Okay, it's one, two, three, four, five hundred carats on my wrist (Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
That's a Patek, uh, all baguettes, I manage (Uh, uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
One, two, three, four, five bitches fuckin' on my clique (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
And they can't help it (Uh-huh)
No Limit gang, you know we savage, uh (Geek, geek)
Fuck a bouncer, step up in the club, I got my ratchet, uh (Bitch, uh-huh)
Upper echelon, we still acting ratchet, uh (Yeah, bitch)
Fuck a bouncer, I'm up in the club with my ratchet, uh (Grrah, bitch)
Upper echelon, but we still acting ratchet (Still acting ratchet)
[Verse 1]
Yeah, gun make him do backflips (Grrah)
Gymnastics when I'm loading up the ratchet (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, bitch)
Rich ass bastard, nah, I don't got no father (Uh-huh, uh-huh, ya' dig, uh-huh)
Okay, you got some talent, but I still go harder (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
Yeah, new main thing (Yeah), uh, really wanna give her brain (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
I need some brain (Uh-huh), uh, I cannot maintain (Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
I'm screaming, "Fuck the fame!" (Yeah), I do this shit for my gang (Gang, gang)
Plus, I love the music (Uh), went platinum on you losers (Losers)
Uh, I ball out like Michael Jordan and you, Boozer (Swish, swish, swish, swish)
I ain't come to fight, uh, uh, uh, I got a Ruger (Grrah, uh-huh)
How you talking tough when you on computers? (Tough, what?)
You ain't shit but an Instagram user (Ya' dig?)
Fuck out my motherfuckin' face (Fuck out my motherfuckin'—), yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Can't you see I'm getting to the cake? Yeah, yeah, yeah (Can't you see I'm getting to the cake?)
Run it up like the cops tryna chase, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh, run it up like the cops tryna—)
That's your bitch? Then why my homie putting his kids on her face? (Ya' bitch)
Yeah, get the fuck out my motherfuckin' face, yeah, yeah, yeah (Fuck out my motherfuckin'—, uh)
Can't you see I'm getting to this cake? (Cash, cash, cash) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
Run it up like cops doing a chase, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
That's your bitch? Why my homie bustin' on her face? Yeah
Woo, uh, bitch, huh (Oh-oh, oh-oh)
It's one, two, three, four, five hundred carats on the scene (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
(One, two, three, four, I done traveled the world on they ass)
One, two, three, four, five hundred carats (Suck my dick)
Yeah (Grrah)
[Chorus]
Okay, it's one, two, three, four, five hundred carats on my wrist (Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
That's a Patek, uh, all baguettes, I manage (Uh, uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
One, two, three, four, five bitches fuckin' on my clique (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
And they can't help it (Uh-huh)
No Limit gang, you know we savage, uh (Geek, geek)
Fuck a bouncer, step up in the club, I got my ratchet, uh (Bitch, uh-huh)
Upper echelon, we still acting ratchet, uh (Yeah, bitch)
Fuck a bouncer, I'm up in the club with my ratchet, uh (Grrah, bitch)
Upper echelon, but we still acting ratchet (Still acting ratchet)
[Verse 1]
Yeah, gun make him do backflips (Grrah)
Gymnastics when I'm loading up the ratchet (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, bitch)
Rich ass bastard, nah, I don't got no father (Uh-huh, uh-huh, ya' dig, uh-huh)
Okay, you got some talent, but I still go harder (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
Yeah, new main thing (Yeah), uh, really wanna give her brain (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
I need some brain (Uh-huh), uh, I cannot maintain (Uh-huh, uh, uh-huh)
I'm screaming, "Fuck the fame!" (Yeah), I do this shit for my gang (Gang, gang)
Plus, I love the music (Uh), went platinum on you losers (Losers)
Uh, I ball out like Michael Jordan and you, Boozer (Swish, swish, swish, swish)
I ain't come to fight, uh, uh, uh, I got a Ruger (Grrah, uh-huh)
How you talking tough when you on computers? (Tough, what?)
You ain't shit but an Instagram user (Ya' dig?)
Fuck out my motherfuckin' face (Fuck out my motherfuckin'—), yeah, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Can't you see I'm getting to the cake? Yeah, yeah, yeah (Can't you see I'm getting to the cake?)
Run it up like the cops tryna chase, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh, run it up like the cops tryna—)
That's your bitch? Then why my homie putting his kids on her face? (Ya' bitch)
Yeah, get the fuck out my motherfuckin' face, yeah, yeah, yeah (Fuck out my motherfuckin'—, uh)
Can't you see I'm getting to this cake? (Cash, cash, cash) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
Run it up like cops doing a chase, yeah, yeah, yeah (Uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)
That's your bitch? Why my homie bustin' on her face? Yeah
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