Alright, alright, alright

Man I love my bitches
Man they photogenic
Snatched em straight up out they Richardson mag they do my dishes
Man I love this Crippin'
Man my homies with it
All these murders they ain't got enough ambulances with 'em
I ain't paying homage to nobody with no bodies
I don't care bout yo Ferrari I'll snatch you out that Bentley
Was cramming into Civics 'round 2010-ish
Piled in the studio when not a nigga would listen

Now we're big time, big time, big time
Now we're big time, big time, big time
Now we're big time, big time, big time
Hands up baby don't you see this big nine
Screamin' fuck the world like that shit mine

Player shit player made
I'm stuck in my player ways
I just made a play today
She gave me some play today
My Jordan was lay-away
I caught me a fade a day
Around where Janaya stay
My 40 go dumb in a major way
I come from the game where they pay to play
These rappers extorted like everyday
That Yankee I'm sporting like every day
Just played me a show they paid 80k
I put it away for a rainy day
You never know when you gon' catch a case
You never know when you gon' catch an opp
We kill ever day like where Sosa stay
You might get a pass

Now we're big time, big time, big time
Now we're big time, big time, big time
Now we're big time, big time, big time
Hands up baby don't you see this big nine
Screamin' fuck the world like that shit mine

Big timer like Manny and Baby
Don't play with that man cause he crazy
With Demon and Ocho from Bompton
They stomping out niggas like Stacy
The radio never gon play me quit if my label don't pay me
I'll run up in there with my gun in the air
Screaming, "Give me the shit you owe Jay Z"
Bandana like Jayo from Daygo's
My temper depend how my day go
My girl do whatever I say so
She ain't got no reason to say no
I ain't wish for nothing but hood rich
You ain't seen how grimy my hood get
I been on some up to no good shit
You on that Cuba in Boyz N da Hood shit
I go down to Cuba and find me a plug
Sick of these rappers not selling no drugs
Sick of this industry playing these games
Sick of my enemies saying my name
Harder than niggas since Hollister nigga
I'll body a nigga for saying I can't
You should have known I go hard in the paint
You should have known ain't no stopping my wave

Big time, time, time, time, time, time, time
Big time, time, time, time, time, time, time

Next time on Poppy street
Hello? Hello? Is anybody there?

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): James Blake Litherland, Vince Staples