I might just hit it raw, hol' on
That's not my element
I like dark skins, love her melanin
Huh, Christian Louboutin, when I'm steppin' in
Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
I had the Lambo', switched to the 'Rari
I'm a gangsta, but I like to party
Pop a Perky, go retarded
I'm a Brooklyn nigga, I'm cold-hearted

That's why I like the bad gyal (whoa), like RiRi (Ri)
Every time she see me, she wanna eat me (hol' on)
I soar like Justin Bieber, please believe me
I said, "Wow, I'm on the TV"
I can't fuck with broke bitches, they be creepy
She be actin' up, she always tryna leave me
But she a bad gyal, and she freaky
I have her hangin' off the rod like she Mimi
I never hit a bitch more than once 'cause they be leeches
But her pussy good, it taste like peaches
But she can have it, I don't need it
I'd rather have my money green like kiwi
I don't talk to niggas, 'cause they be cappin'
Disrespect me and see what happen
I will make a call for war, start snappin' (rrr)
Bullets blastin', all the opps mad, that I lapped 'em
He said, "We're stackin', nothin' but my money"
'Member my pockets flat, now they chunky
I ain't a pretty boy, but I ain't ugly
And I'll take your bitch in a second
If she a real one then I'll protect it
Traded the AP, told my jeweler, "Patek it"
And it's all VVS and flower settings

I might just hit it raw, hol' on
That's not my element
I like dark skins, love her melanin
Huh, Christian Louboutin, when I'm steppin' in
Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
I had the Lambo', switched to the 'Rari
I'm a gangsta, but I like to party
Pop a Perky, go retarded
I'm a Brooklyn nigga, I'm cold-hearted

(Yoz, what you tellin' me? Yoz, what you tellin' me?)
(Yoz, what you tellin' me? Yoz, what you tellin' me?)

Copyright: Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Bashar Barakah Jackson, Yosief Tafari