Fresh out the gate
We gon' flood 'em
You know what it is (Hitmaker)
It's that Moroccan Sahara Desert, where it meet the ocean at (Sound)
Montana
Turn it up 'til you can't turn (han, ayy)

I'm past different
Five bitches, I Saks Fifth 'em
They smoke weed but that Moroccan hash different
Glass pots to glass whippin'
One on one, bag different
Born Muslim but the tag Christian
Golden beach mansions
2002 Steve Francis
Too hard for your weak glances
They tried to break the bond like Will and Jada (Jada)
And when they drop the bond, I'ma free the Wave up (ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)
I cop cribs by the kilometers
Cruisin' through Medina
Black hawks risin' like the phoenix
Six feet, it don't get more under
'Til then, glass floors with the pit bulls under
Competition full of tricks and bundles
That's a sucker sport
Couldn't beat us in the streets so they won in court
Don't get me started
My crib, the Carter
From New York but ain't no squares in my garden (ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)

Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side?
'Cause when it feels right, my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood (Double M)
Pardon my vibe (one of the greatest, M-M-Maybach Music)

Let the top back on these clowns, my head in the clouds
Whoever did me foul, sure regrettin' it now (huh)
I play the music loud when I'm dickin' her down
A decorated crib, they call it nostalgia (woo)
I bet the way I live they find it arousin'
It is what it is, impeccable housin'
Alkaline water, blue champagne (huh)
I went to Jacob with a duffle on my campaign (ha)
Fast money, still I suffer from a lack of patience
Back to basics
Broke nigga vaccinations
Me and French, hall of fame, comin' off the bench (what?)
A Richard Mille, new McLaren and the baddest bitch (huh)
My doors butterfly for the summertime (the biggest)
Top floor, the Faena when she one of mine
They lobster ravioli and that's for the guys (hey, yeah, yeah)
As the sun set, my hitters on the rise

Yeah, don't it feel like the rain's on my side?
'Cause when it feels right, my hands touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon while I touch the sky
Pardon my high
Pardon the mood
Pardon my vibe

(Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh)
It feel good don't it?
Oh-oh, oh
Yeah, it feel good don't it?
Don't it feel like
Ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Amala Ratna Zandile Dlamini, Christian Ward, Karim Kharbouch, Megan Pete