Cocaine, caviar, and grouper fishes (Sniff)

You see a bunch of rappers, I see a group of bitches

No broke **** around me, that shit might rub off, I'm superstitious (Get out of here)

Direct deposit just came in, that shit was too ridiculous

My music motivate dudes in the trenches usin' switches (Uh-huh)

Ain't even gotta drop a bag, them boys gon' do your dishes (Boom, boom, boom)

Bro got all that time, he appealed and they reduced the sentence

And he still gotta do two digits, shit (That's fucked up)

Word to my **** Malice, everything I spew malicious

That's just somethin' to think about when y'all do y'all lists (Talk that shit)

Run at me, you runnin' towards a wall, boy, I ain't movin' inches (Uh-uh)

BJ modified the yacht, he like "Buzz, check my new invention" (What up, Buzz?)

Yeah, **** can't control their emotions, show their true intentions

That bitch was broke, that made me lose my interest

I'm so in the lead, I could leave for three years and still ain't losin' distance (Ha)

Look, it was resi' in them pots and them pans, now it's tropical sand (Whip up)

I told her "Don't even pack, we gon' shop when we land" (We shoppin')

Private villa, seafood tower, lobster and clam

So paranoid, some nights, I sleep with this Glock in my hand (Uh-huh)

Havin' visions of **** that I done shot with this can (I swear)

It's **** that I love, I know, tryna plot on my land (Who plottin', huh?)

Whack 'em, bury 'em in my yard, dig his plot on my land (Woo)

Shit, I'm just that ****, boy, look at my run

Look all of the classics that I dropped in the span of six years

It would seem I did the impossible, damn

Came a long way from when a **** was shot in my van

Tourin' overseas, I just had a moshpit in France

Puttin' on for my **** that's locked in the jam

I don't rock with industry ****, they is not my men (Uh-uh)

Flygod

Ayo

I don't trust no fuckin' body but this heckler (Boom, boom, boom)

Just spent thirty-thousand in the Webster

You know the car, nothin' more, nothin' lesser (Uh-uh)

Jamaican, raw, hit him in his head and said, "Bless up"

Ayo, Jamaican, raw, hit him in his head and said "Bless up" (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Ayo, tell 'em to bring the match, to wear Bottega green satchels

Bet I'll be at you, Tom Ford tracksuit

Prince Markie D on the stove, wearin' raccoons

You just got it, I wore this shit Fashion Week last June

Balenciaga, Adida', baklava

The chopper shot, the suede Maserati, with the Prada top (Skrrt)

American cups, patent leathers on blasè blah

Denim Tears Saint Michael top off, Mardi Gras

I talked to Sly and Kutter today

Still be in the hood, got a house on the lake

Got album of the year, still get work from the Bay

Otis had been told me "If you gon' play, you gotta play"

My **** just seen a boy, stomach hurtin', he gotta stay

Gave Y.N. a new Griselda chain and a Drac'