Lyrics:
Niggas pop tags, I pop the fo-five
Niggas got swag, I got the Tek-9
Niggas got cash better run it
Only dubs and hundreds, I dont do fifties, nigga
And I dont do 50-year-old Jiggas
Off that boss black Lamborghini, interior soft crack
Louis V golf hat, feelin like a Tiger
I made something out of nothin like MacGuyver
Started from an eighth, flipped it to a ki
I got em like ay, trappin like Gucci
Plus I get more green than bleu cheese
And I keep a red bandana in my blue jeans
So, n*gga calm your nerves, with all that absurd
Far from the curb bullshit-slash-spoken word
You nerd
Im from the same city as Venus and Serena
So dont get served
Im so wavy, homie no yacht
Aint no Big Pimpin on my block
But Im an underground king, peace to Pimp C
Catch me ridin through the hood, 20-10 Bentley
You got cheese and I kill rats
Translation: I still trap
Now do something with that
Or respond to this
And with them big-ass lips
You got my name in your mouth
I hope it tastes like this—Ahh
No homo, one more time—Ahh
Thats your promo
And I been hard to the core since I went solo
Only man on my horse like my all-black Polo
And where Im bout to go is usually a no-no
But Im loco, got the camel in a chokehold
Tryna son me, Im not from NYC
You cant even have a child by your Destiny
And I aint mean to that a shot at Bey
Im blacked out like you did Free
Cause Im so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
Rock more red than Weezy Baby
Please say the Baby
I been around for years, so bitch, dont Drake me
And this is not a diss
Cause I was just out in LA with Drake, bitch
And no disrespect to G and Hip-Hop
But n*gga Im a G and Im doing this for hip-hop
And thats Yes brother, and Ye my nigga so
Ima give him some advice: Get rid of Amber Rose!
Ima tell you how she get down
I was at Digs afterparty, sippin Cris
She was whisperin to Chris Brown
I seen Chris turn his head like No!
Then Gold Digger came on, I pointed like, Hoe!
But this aint bout her, this about Hov
Ima chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
I apologize to Bey, cause this about Hov
Ima chop down the Roc and take it to the stove
D.O.A.? No!
T-Pain stays, old nigga goes
Im so wavy
Too hardcore to be a Jay-Z
All up in your ear like Drake be
So n*gga the cut Ye couldnt fade me
You took a shot and the shit grazed me
I wet up your block just like the Navy
Put a label on the shit and write Play Me
DJs go in, DJs go in
Funk Flex, you my nigga. Clue, what up? DJ Enuff. I know yall cant play this shit. Its too wavy. And Jay your boy, its all good though, yall still my niggas. DJ Drama, Kay Slay, lock in. I mean, this shit so hot DJ Whoooooo Kid might spin this sh*t at 50s birthday party. DJ Skee! Khaled know we the best! Yo, Don Cannon, Cannon! I know yall niggas locked in. DJ Chris Styles! Young Legend, Nu Jerzey Devil. DJ Felli Fel! Ed Deluxe, D Man, ride this shit straight through Big Boy Neighborhood! Kid Capri, tell Hovi Hov leave that young nigga alone! I mean, DJ Red Alert, what up OG? Red Album comin soon.
I see you downloadin my swag, camelface. Blueprint 3 gon sell more cigarettes than it do records, nigga. Now I know why the taxes went up on tobacco, motherfucker. Heard bout your little fight backstage with Kanye, too. I got a million dollars say Kanye knocked that nigga the fuck out. Just tryna make good music, is all he tryna do. Shit, choo fuckin with Ye for? D.O.A. nigga? Please. I love 808s and Heartbreaks, Love Lockdown, thats my shit.
And tell the world why Chris Brown wasnt at the BET Awards. This n*gga told BET if they let Chris Breezy, him and Beyonce stayin at home, ol bitter ass nigga.
Nigga, Dame, man, thats your man. You and Dame was mans and em. You and Dame used to be tighter than giraffe pussy and shit. You know your man having financial problems and shit. You number one on the Forbes list, nigga, you make 35 million and shit. Give a nigga a milli or sum. Id give it to him myself, but shit, I was only #13, nigga, on the list, way down there with Jeezy and shit, earned 7 million this year so far. But Im on tour, nigga, Lamborghini Tour, live from Switzerland, I gets it in. Shit, I could use 28 more million. But I wouldnt trade shots with you on the motheruckin list for that nose and them lips, nigga. My nigga Jay.
And last but not least, peace to M.I.A., cause the Roc bout to be MIA. No one on the corner got a swagger like you, cause no one on the fuckin corner is 42.
