Yeah
(Wheezy outta here)
Jeez, jeez

Back home, smokin' legal (legal)
I got more slaps than The Beatles (Beatles)
Foreign shit runnin' on diesel, dawg
Playin' with my name, that shit is lethal, dawg (who you say you was?)
Don Corleone
Trust me, at the top it isn't lonely (strapped)
Everybody actin' like they know me, dawg
Don't just say you're down, you gotta show me (what you gotta do?)
Bring the clip back empty (it's empty)
You asked to see the boss, so they sent me, dawg (sent me, dawg)
I just broke her off with a ten-piece, dawg (ten-piece, dawg)
That ain't nothin', I'm just bein' friendly, dawg

It's just a lil' ten piece for her
Just to blow it in the mall, doesn't mean that we're involved
I just what? I just uh, put a Richard on the card
I ain't grow up playin' ball, but I'll show you how the fuck you gotta do it
If you really wanna ball 'til you fall
When your back against the wall
And a bunch of niggas need you to go away
Still goin' bad on 'em anyway
Saw you last night, but did it broad day

Yeah, lot of Murakami in the hallway (what?)
Got a sticky and I keep it at my dawg's place
Girl, I left your love at Magic, now it's all shade
Still goin' bad on you anyway

Whoa, whoa, ooh, whoa
Whoa, whoa, ah

I could fit like eighty racks in my Amiris (eighty racks)
Me and Drizzy back-to-back, it's gettin' scary (back-to-back)
If you fuckin' with my opps just don't come near me (get out my way)
Put some bands all on your head like Jason Terry (brrt-brrt, ooh)
Richard Mille cost a Lambo (that's a Lambo)
Known to keep the baddest bitches on commando (salute)
Every time I'm in my trap, I move like Rambo (extendy)
Ain't a neighborhood in Philly that I can't go (that's a Fendi)
For real
She said, "Oh, you rich rich?" ("You rich rich")
Bitch, I graduated, call me, "Big Fish" (ballin')
I got Lori Harvey on my wish list (that's Lori)
That's the only thing I want for Christmas (true story, uh)
I've been had my way out here, yeah, know that's facts (facts)
You ain't livin' that shit you sell, yeah, we know that's cap (that's cap)
You ain't got to ask me when you see me, know I'm strapped (brrt)
DC, OVO, we back again, we goin' bad (ooh, ooh)

It's just a lil' ten-piece for her
Just to blow it in the mall, doesn't mean that we're involved
I just what? I just uh, put a Richard on the card
I ain't grow up playin' ball, but I'll show you how the fuck you gotta do it
If you really wanna ball 'til you fall
When your back against the wall
And a bunch of niggas need you to go away
Still goin' bad on 'em anyway
Saw you last night, but did it broad day

(Wheezy outta here) (woo)

Copyright: Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Aubrey Drake Graham, Robert Rihmeek Williams, Wesley Tyler Glass, Westen Weiss