I feel like I beat a murder, murder
Fuckin´ on a bitch you never heard of, heard of

That Pope like the leader of the Vatican, he do it again?
Everything I do, they do, guess Yeezy set the trend
And we in this bitch again, time to get rich again (Throw your motherfuckin´ hands)
They lookin´ like prey, I guess that´s why they prayin´
And when you flyin´ private, it can´t be no delayin´
When I speak my mind, it´s gon´ be some lawsuits and furniture movin´
I gotta haul through like when you be movin´
I gotta fly to Japan just to be secluded
They did no damage, what I give ´em? No chances
Even if they get a chance, here´s panic like they know Spanish
How I brand all of these clothes?

How every tantrum I throw make an anthem for hoes?
This my life, not a quote

I feel like I beat a murder, murder
Fuckin´ on a bitch you never heard of, heard of

I´ma take all my baldies to Giorgio Baldis
Throw my dick a party
Your dress code upscale, used to shop at Aldis
I ran up some numbers, now I got what you all need
Give your homegirl the boric acid, save the summer
New abs, she droppin´ fast, it´s time to come up
Black out

Passin´ out and then she wakin´ up gorgeous
I´m not racist, it´s a preference
And my bitch lookin´ like a reference
Don´t I make the rules like a referee?
Come get on your knees, shawty, I got needs
She a loud mouth
I need to sign and seal a couple brand new deals
Gotta get this shit off my chest, I got some shit to spill
Passin´ out NDAs, nigga, deal with it after
I just fucked the world raw, she need a morning after
And then the morning after
And I quote, "It´s only one G.O.A.T.," let you have your fun, though
Run the block like Mutombo, you had it on loan
Every day in New Jersey, on my way to New York
I was late to every meeting, in my queen´s tunnel

But all the hoes in Hoboken know
If I seent you outside with the open-toes
You might get you a trip to the Poconos
You might have to tell your man a Pinocchio
That was a jokey-joke
That wasn´t nowhere near as funny when you brokey-broke
Crying in high school over a high school bitch
And she still in the dark takin´ night school, bitch
Look at how we made it like we Mike WiLL, bitch
Wish somebody woulda warned us
When I was fifteen, my soulmate wasn´t born yet
African king in a different time
We got multiple wives too, just at different times
Picture this, if every room got a different bitch
Do that make me a po-nigga-mist?

Without the deals, I guarantee I´m still nigga rich
Shit is fuckin´ ridiculous