Lyrics
The money (money)
Cars (cars)
The clothes (clothes)
The hoes
I suppose

Yeah!
I want the money, money and the cars
Cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful

Drizzy
Aw yeah, Trey, I fuckin' feel ya
They be starin' at the money like it's unfamiliar
I get it, I live it, to me there's nothing realer
Just enough to solve your problems, too much'll kill ya
And when I leave, I always come right back here
The young spitter that everybody in rap fear
A lot of y'all are still sounding like last year
The game need change and I'm the motherfuckin' cashier
Nickels for my thoughts, dimes in my bed
Quarters of the kush shape the lines in my head
Take my verses too serious, you'll hate me
'Cause I'm the one to paint a vivid picture, no HD
Yeah, I want it all, that's why I strive for it
Diss me, you'll never hear a reply for it
Any award show or party, I get fly for it
I know that it's coming, I just hope that I'm alive for it

I want the money, money and the cars
Cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful

Yeah, I want things to go my way
But as of late, a lot of shit been going sideways
And my mother tried to run away from home
But I left something in the car and so I caught her in the driveway
And she cried to me, so I cried too
And my stomach was soaking wet, she only five-two
And Forty, that was all before I showed up
And brought a thousand dollars worth of drinks and got poured up
Damn, my reality just set in
And even when the Phantom's leased, them hoes wanna get in
I do a lot of things hopin' I never have to fit in
So try to keep up with my progress, it's like a dead-end
My girl love me, but fuck it, my heart beats slow
And right now the tour bus is looking like a freak show
And life change for us every single week, so
It's good, but I know this ain't the peak though 'cause I want the

Money, money and the cars
Cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful

(Aight, well uh, aight, we'll just fuckin' figure it out)
(Young boy figure it out, you know what you're doing
Taking it to the top, all the way to the top
You need to go for the money, and not the honey
You know what I'm saying?
You know what I'm saying?)

Uh
Wise words from a decent man
Back when I was tryna put a ring on Alisha hand
This lost boy got fly without Peter Pan
And my delivery just got me buzzing like the pizza man
In-person I am everything and more
I'm everywhere these other niggas never been before
But inside I'm treading water, steady tryna swim to shore
I'm on a shopping spree to get whatever is in store
Yeah, just call me "Shopping Bag Drizzy"
Or call me Mr. "Damn, he ain't coppin' that, is he?"
And fans of the freshman is about to get iffy
While this youngin' that you doubted is about to get busy
I'ma kill it, I promise, that's how I know you're mad
I've always treated my city like some shoulder pads
The big homie, use a flash if you must
And I swear I ain't asking for much, all I want is the

(Yeah) I want the money, money and the cars
Cars and the clothes, the hoes, I suppose
I just wanna be (yeah) I just wanna be successful (that's all I want, man)
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful (you gotta tell 'em, Trey)
I just wanna be, I just wanna be successful

Yeah, it's like I, it's like I know what I gotta say
I just don't know how to say it, to you

Uh, pardon the swag, but bitch it's Car-tey
Long bread, I don't eat shortcake, how come I can't
Miss a woman like I can't miss court dates
Cheese, but she's not in this portrait
And yeah, life's fine, but I don't portray
I'm on the other side, but it is a short gate
I don't want the glow, I want the glory
And I'ma fuck the world, but this is just foreplay
Tired of hearing bullshit, bring on the cow shit
Haven't met a smell that's stinkier than our shit
Ha, and that's word to Toronto
So high up, I got birds in the condo
Ha, ain't that a female dog
Ask her who I am to her, and she yell, "God"
Weezy Baby, I go re-al hard
No further details, boy

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Aubrey Drake Graham, Dwayne Michael Carter, Noah James Shebib, Tremaine Aldon Neverson




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