["Under the spot, under the spot" - *repeat in background*]
[Intro: Swizz Beatz] I got a million ways to get it (uh-huh, geah) ... Choose one (choose one, hey) Ay, bring it back, bring it back (uh-huh) Now double your money and make a stack I'm on to the next one, on to the next one I'm on to the next one, on to the next one I'm on to the next one, on to the next one I'm on to the next one, on to the next one (Hold up) Freeze! Ay! Somebody bring me back the money please, hey
[Verse 1] Hov' on that new shit, niggas like "How come?" Niggas want my old shit, buy my old albums Niggas stuck on stupid, I gotta keep it movin' Niggas make the same shit, me I make The Blueprint Came in the Range, hopped out the Lexus Every year since, I been on that next shit Traded in the gold for the platinum Rolexes Now a nigga wrist match the status of my records Used to rock a throwback, ballin on the corner Now I rock a tailored suit, lookin like a owner No I'm not a Jonas, Brother I'm a grown up No I'm not a virgin, I use my cojones I move onward, the only direction Can't be scared to fail in the search of perfection Gotta keep it fresh girl, even when we sexin But don't be mad at him when it's on to the next one
[Hook]
[Verse 2] Fuck a throwback jersey cause we on to the next one And fuck that Auto-Tune cause we *onnnnn* And niggas don't be mad cause it's all about progression Loiterers should be arrested I used to drink Cristal, the muh'fucker's racist So I switched gold bottles on to that Spade shit You gon' have another drink or you just gon' baby-sit On to the next one, somebody call the waitress Baby I'm a boss, I don't know what they do I don't get dropped, I drop the label World can't hold me, too much ambition Always knew it'd be like this when I was in the kitchen Niggas in the same spot, me I'm dodgin raindrops Meanin I'm on vacay, chillin on a big yacht Yeah I got on flip-flops, white Louie boat shoes Y'all should grow the fuck up, c'mere let me coach you Hold up
[Hook]
[Verse 3] Uhh, Big Pimpin' in the house now Bought the land, tore the muh'fuckin house down Bought the car, tore the muh'fuckin roof off Ride clean, I don't ever take the shoes off Bought the jeep, tore the muh'fuckin doors off Foot out that bitch, ride the shit like a skateboard Navigation on, tryin to find my next thrill Feelin myself, I don't even need an X pill Can't chill but my neck will Haters really gon' be mad off my next deal Uhh, I don't know why they worry 'bout my pockets Meanwhile I had Oprah chillin in the projects Had her out in Bed-Stuy, chillin on the steps Drinkin quarter waters, I gotta be the best M.J. at Summer Jam, Obama on the text Y'all should be afraid of what I'm gon' do next Hold up