[Verse 1: Iggy Azalea]
Too much money for a spin, these bitches can't see me
I told em they just chasin', they could catch me on the TV
We got that triple X's before their kids I keep it PG
All my diamonds clear as water gotta roll with all the Fiji
These bitches always tryna hold a bitch back
Pussy on a pedestal, now tell them hoes kiss that
Nowadays I'm feelin' like fuck a hater feelings
'Cause they got me fucked up like sex on the ceiling
Now I'ma tip now these hoes is tip-tippin' on my dick
I'm in Texas like I'm Trae Tha Truth, sippin on that grit
Hold a temporary visa but thick as a southern man
And if ya'll mad at that I'm just sayin'; ''Oh-fuckin'-well''
[Chorus: Kris Stephens:]
I don't gotta chase money 'cause the money's always chasin, chasin' me down
I don't gotta look for fame 'cause the fame is always reachin, seekin' me down
And I know you hate me, I make it look easy
Y'all wanna know how
Guess that's why you're chasin', chasin' me down
[Verse 2: T.I.]
Cheese in my briefcase, bread in my backpack
Laugh at niggas chasin money askin where the cash at
They chasin me, hope the riches kept on a fast track
And big dog paper, pussy niggas got cash stacks
Ridin in that turbo Porsche, Panamera hatchback
Something worth 100K, nigga can you match that?
Checks OB and hit the bank and say how can we cash that?
Quarter mill on tennis shoes, 50K on snap backs
He lookin for the fame and I'm lookin where he had that
100 million dollar ring, hoppin in and out of Range Rovers
I ain't know you broke, get away from me, you bad luck
Lemme' hyper speed, like I gotta let the money catch up
Too much money for a spin, these bitches can't see me
I told em they just chasin', they could catch me on the TV
We got that triple X's before their kids I keep it PG
All my diamonds clear as water gotta roll with all the Fiji
These bitches always tryna hold a bitch back
Pussy on a pedestal, now tell them hoes kiss that
Nowadays I'm feelin' like fuck a hater feelings
'Cause they got me fucked up like sex on the ceiling
Now I'ma tip now these hoes is tip-tippin' on my dick
I'm in Texas like I'm Trae Tha Truth, sippin on that grit
Hold a temporary visa but thick as a southern man
And if ya'll mad at that I'm just sayin'; ''Oh-fuckin'-well''
[Chorus: Kris Stephens:]
I don't gotta chase money 'cause the money's always chasin, chasin' me down
I don't gotta look for fame 'cause the fame is always reachin, seekin' me down
And I know you hate me, I make it look easy
Y'all wanna know how
Guess that's why you're chasin', chasin' me down
[Verse 2: T.I.]
Cheese in my briefcase, bread in my backpack
Laugh at niggas chasin money askin where the cash at
They chasin me, hope the riches kept on a fast track
And big dog paper, pussy niggas got cash stacks
Ridin in that turbo Porsche, Panamera hatchback
Something worth 100K, nigga can you match that?
Checks OB and hit the bank and say how can we cash that?
Quarter mill on tennis shoes, 50K on snap backs
He lookin for the fame and I'm lookin where he had that
100 million dollar ring, hoppin in and out of Range Rovers
I ain't know you broke, get away from me, you bad luck
Lemme' hyper speed, like I gotta let the money catch up
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