Uh, hundred thousand for the car, uh
Smokin' weed, I'm in the stars, uh
Just bought it, now I need a Porsche, uh
Juicy geeked up off them bars
Smokin' weed, I'm in the stars Taylor Gang in the strip club, ballin' out
If you see a pussy nigga, gon' call 'em out
My Bugatti outside, that's real money
I got niggas in my circle that'll kill for me
I take your life savings, spend it on a watch
Made an anthem for them strippers, put it on the charts
Pass that Grey Poupon, rich nigga talk
Gettin' that white folk money, what the fuck you thought?
Hell nah, I ain't shit
Ain't no broad I can't hit
Ain't no weed I haven't smoked
Ain't no car I can't get
Ain't nowhere I haven't gone
No kind of rack I haven't spent
If you ain't gon' blow it all, why the fuck you have it then?
I make your bitch pay for the zip
I let your bitch swallow my dick
I let your ho ride in my car
I took that bitch straight to the stall
I took that bitch down to my greenhouse
And let the ho leave with a jar
I let the bitch open my rap book, and watched her sniff a bar
Man, I'm high as a fool, man
You know what it is
You know I always get this money!
24/7 grind, bruh
So, uh, let these hoes know
They get more bread
More rides
Going to the mall
And buying everything, all big-faced bills
We gon' do that shit high as fuck
So damn fucked up
We gon' call your bitch, nigga