[Hook: Chris Brown] If anybody feeling fresh in the building Take your hand, hold it high to the ceiling right now And say damn I'm killing them, damn I'm killing them I know they feeling me now And if you too fresh in the building Then take your hand, hold it high to the ceiling right now And say damn I'm killing them, damn I'm killing them I know they feeling me now
[Verse 1: B.o.B] And I'm still here with a lifestyle you would kill for Still here with the same shoes that I had on from the get-go Straight out of Atlanta, Georgia, for any of y'all that didn't know And I'm never that hard to find because 420 is my zip code My back then couldn't get dro, cause back then I was this broke That's why I got so many hustles, Bruh man from the fifth floor What would you do in the middle of the winter When the sun goes down and it gets cold? Growin' up in a house with no stove, no doors, no walls, no windows And my brother was always fresher I would go to school in his clothes, when I did go So that's why now this the type of life that I live for Comin' up as a youngin', man some nights I would vomit I would throw up on myself cause I was so sick to my stomach Now I'm the shit, fix the plumbing Feel with my y'all, I'm this close Spent my whole life chasin' shit, where's Nabisco? My past memories, I miss those Hey, all I can say is you get what you wish for
[Hook]
[Verse 2: T.I.] I'm fresh off my pit-stop, flow airtight with no Ziploc Get shit pop when my shit drop, no hip-hop, this Tip hop I'm back standin' at the tip top where I belong, it won't be long 'Til you hear me on a B.o.B song, some chick gettin' my skeet on To touch the sole of my feet, G you gon' have to get your reach on I'm up all the way high, all the way fly on the ground and I'm off the radar Bernie Madoff money, dawg got killers paid off with it all I got the juice, could you place a call and we place a call to who place a call Don't get your part and not too hard, I disregard what you say Back up the trunk and pass the buck, here's where I'm stoppin' today Got swag all on me, homie, can't wipe it away we too ill, ill That's how we got arenas, dumps, and stadiums feel How you feel?
[Hook]
[Verse 3: B.o.B] And I'm still here with a black whip from the strange clouds And I'm still here with the same team, nigga stay down Still here for the east side, ain't a thing change but the bank account Hands high when I come 'round cause I'm killin this shit nigga, hands down And I go hard, my passport's like a postcard Give a fuck if I'm solo, I'll go toe-to-toe with your whole squad With the soul of a soldier but even still I don't want no parts And no niggas with no hearts, you cocksuckers need throat guards I'm throwed off for the most part, a young dog with an old bark Flow dumb, but I'm so smart, I compose art, call me Mozart My nightlife's like a soap opera with two chicks like it's Noah's ark They got nice dresses with no bras with good bodies like "Oh God!" From a poor child to on top like a mohawk But I always knew I'd go far bike a gas truck with no park So no applause, hold the applause Just put your hand up if you know the song