chorus

I gotta flock of fly women

I'm feelin' myself

feelin' myself

feelin' myself

Think a nigga lost his pistal

how I'm feelin' myself

feelin' myself

feelin' myself

I make my own damn money

I'm feelin' myself

feelin myself

feelin' myself

You ain't gotta feel me homie

I'm feelin' myself

fellin' myself

feelin' myself

(end chorus)

Well imma A-town resident,

cocky and arrogant

feelin' myself like I'm off my own medicine

nuts of an elephant

dope boy stamina

I ain't taken pictures

I'm too cool for the camera

flossin' on you bitches like the boss

you'z an amateur

blame it on your manager

I run my city

I ain't talkin marathons

I am not P.Diddy

in a coupe lookin.....?

doo doo brown interior

follow the leader

10 steps ahead of ya'

diamonds on my neck

sing the song to her

jack me, yeah right

I stay strapped like yo pole

I'm feelin' myself

I tell them go and they go

(chorus)

hey get familiar with the style

get familiar with the swag

get familiar with the pizzazz

be showin' my ass

get familiar with the chain

flooded loaded in cash

every car got a stash in the dash

every chick thick with an ass

first one to blast

ask questions later

fo fo mag

how a nigga adressed the hater

no mask on the cape

I ain't presses with paper

duck investigators

I'm cooler than a fridgerater

sweeter than a now-n-later

gang get it poppin'

make the haters fell the vapors

dolla the hood faviorite

that weak shit shave it

feelin' myself I got the whole block achin

(chorus)

(girl)does he think he da sh**

does he think he da sh**

dose he think he da sh**

(dolla) hell yeah I do

(girl) he think he da sh**

he think he da sh**

he think he da sh**

(dolla) if you waz me you would too nigga

Ay' whatcha know about goin out

down south ballin out

DVS all up in the f***in mouth

doors liftin up rooftop comin down

dolla goin up

why these hatin niggas comin down

settle down till the b****es calm down

the prince in tha buildin'

everybody gather round

I gotta story to tell

about how I feel

my swag, my style and my goddamn self

'cause I'm cool, cooler than a fan

and my shoes, my shoes cost a grand

and she choose 'cause sh** I'm the man

better get wit'a b****

that can pop a rubberband

(chorus)

Copyright: HIPGNOSIS SONGS GROUP, Universal Music Publishing Group, WORDS & MUSIC A DIV OF BIG DEAL MUSIC LLC
Writer(s): JULIAN C. BUNETTA, RODERICK BURTON