Miss Me (feat. Wiz Khalifa & Styles P)

Whiz, what's up boy

Some next level shit

Yeah

Young urban farmer

Khalifa, man

Oh, what you didn't know?

Big boss, shit, ay, ay, yeah

Real shit, I'm on my own hype

Las Vegas we got four thousand grow lights

This year I'm catchin' more flights (I'm gone)

They don't even rock their own ice

I bury money, and I pray it don't rot (Pray to God)

I thank God I wasn't home when they raided my spot

I'm best friends with my food saver (Where my vacuum sealer?)

Monterrey County, I just grabbed a whole acre (God damn)

I'm so tailored you can smell it in the air

I leave the club with all the bitches

Fuck it, life isn't fair (Oh, you mad?)

They say it's a problem, but I be everywhere

I'm in a foreign smokin' orange, and the police they don't care

(They don't care)

Miami bitches call me "Daddy"

I got asian girls in my hotel, on candy (They on blow)

In the early two thousands, I had purple by the truck

Back then I outta town 'em, yeah

Spend it all and I'm gon' get it back

Goin' hard, I don't ever relax

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Send it all and they gon' get the pack

We the first ones and gon' be the last

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

(Bern, Whiz)

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

I'm with my dogs in the latest of fashion

**** hatin' on me 'cause my status

I've been goin' so hard everyday

I'm in the studio trappin', when you work for it, dog

It'll happen, I done put a lot of zeroes in my bank account

And no it ain't magic, lost some homies in the struggle

It's tragic, I done put my family on

Now they sayin' I'm smart because of my tactics

Love my squad and I got everythin' tatted

I got homies that I used to ride with

That they say that they ratted, hit my phone

And I'm sayin', "What happened?"

I got **** in the streets, when there's beef

And you see them, they clappin'

I'm just tryin' to stay focused

I don't need no distractions, uh

Spend it all and I'm gon' get it back

Goin' hard, I don't ever relax

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Send it all and they gon' get the pack

We the first ones and gon' be the last

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Goose

Blue and don't burn the cookies and cake

You could get hit with the zip or the tray eight

I could blow the bag and get it back in the same day

I was sendin' packs in the nineties

Back in the haze days

Got my second whiff off a piff, it was grade A

When you can get six for the pound

Those was the heydays, I smoke plants

And I eat plants, bop with a joint in my hand

That's the cheat days, I told Berner and Whiz

"I'm a whiz with the burner"

If it ain't hedge fund money that shit don't concern us

What the cash don't get, know the credit get (Know that)

Before the bank, I got thank on the arm

From gangster etiquette, Southside predicate

Westside dough house, now I'm just an entrepreneur

With a love that floats out, sellin' youths

Veggie or fruits, pushin' hope out

Facts, no alternative facts, we get smoked out

Spend it all and I'm gon' get it back

Goin' hard, I don't ever relax

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Send it all and they gon' get the pack

We the first ones and gon' be the last

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Ah, no, they gon' miss me with that

Yeah, yeah, yeah