Pusha T, Bryant Dope, Go Dreamer, Retch, Nipsey Hussle, Problem
[Verse 1: Pusha T] They think that they know, something 'bout my life Not in the same class, not on the same flight Maybe the same club, just not the same lights Both fucked the same bitch, just not the same night You just took her phone number I just took her home with a- 'Nother bitch, ménage Boomerang, Strange' Lipstick on my collar, Oscar de la renta(y) Your hijo - pequeño, my nachos - bel grande Stay sippin' that André Spent 3 stacks - that's André That Balmain, that Phillip Lim They say I'm dressing like Kanye I'm everything that my rhymes say: Breadwinner, brand owner Play Cloths, millionaire Trendsetter, landowner Hope your bitch don't land on him Drink in his hand with the sand on him You small time - you Hyundai's Y'all couch niggas - we stand on em Dope money with a band on it Half gold, we got a hand on it D-boys still ball the same Just gotta little bit of glam on it YAH!
[Verse 2: Bryant Dope] I got flames for your download link I let Ja Rule when I murder ink Murder pink, murder what you thought and what you think This Queens prodigy is the product of what you ain't Well packaged to distribute to the masters Plotted this since first grade classes Class is elements of a classic I've got evidence of a master You never thought you'd be bodied by a bastard A bachelor who backspin on breakbeats Break necks of broke souls who hate me Hate he? You can't take my heat Fireball flow, can't bat in my league I'm the best rapper that's been slept on Stick around like gum that's been stepped on Stepped on, I stepped up, so what up? Tryna make bread with these damn cold cuts I cold crush every beat that I touch My words silk and my flow is pure plush Tell HudMo Dope says "what's up?"
[Verse 3: Go Dreamer] Go Dreamer's a [?], wish upon a star I'm too cold for Pluto so I'm movin' back to Mars Cause this that spaceship, that space shit This that category 5, this that quake, bitch, that quake, bitch See I'm so funked out, like out of here Like blue lights in the basement And it's a red state, in Georgia with it Last verse, did you get it? Nah Never mind, just throw that cash in a duffle As I'm on my Hollywood shuffle Eatin' your million dollar truffles, this acquirin' taste Tantalise so you can see the bigger picture that God is the light In the fixture or in the background Cut all the hatin' in the background Cause if music and money is the motive then you're so gimmick Who's to tell me I can't have a trillion dollar grilled cheese sandwich? Boy stop playin', stop playin' I'm just sayin', just sayin' Now who else wanna fuck with Hollyweird Go?
[Verse 4: Retch] Break up and roll it, light it and smoke it Pass it, don't hold it, lovin' that potent I'm drunk and I'm rollin', it still got me goin' These bad hoes is gruntin', their booties is pokin' Out them little dresses, a nigga wanna fuck He don't even smoke but tell Butter roll a blunt Cause I'm way too drunk and I'm too turnt up And I brought my own shit and I do my own stunts Young and I'm wildin', new drugs, I try em He'll call me Retch but your bitch call me Bryan In Polo I'm stylin', it's all that I'm rockin' If you catch me out in 'Lo it's a problem 'Less it's a Champion suit, then I'm draggin' Fuck with me, I got all this 'Lo all from raggin'? Used to have a nigga that was down to get to clappin' Seen it on a video, he yappin' to the captain That nigga snitchin', R86 him These niggas trainers cause these niggas switchin' And these niggas bitchin' more than these bitches And I'm just so sick of this shit, it's ridiculous Middle finger to the feds, [?] all day Take her out to eat then I make a bitch pay And my wine [?] and my shrimps sautéed And I'm chillin' in LA with a bitch for the day
[Verse 5: Nipsey Hussle] Ain't that a bitch? Foot up on the gas, ain't no brakes in this bitch Cover girl givin' face to the Crip Somethin' 'bout a nigga on the way to the chips High off the money and I'm wasted as shit High off the life and she can't get a grip Hundred dollar cup and you can't get a sip I'm a million dollar nigga, you should take you a flick Hundred thousand dollar car where I sit And my broad is the shit Crenshaw in the 6 Got it parked at the Shell in front of all of the Crips You either ball or you brick She don't know money so she callin' you rich You ain't got game so you fall for the shit Spend it all in this bitch 'til it's gone and she split Now you feel like a wimp Talkin' 'bout what you was buildin' and shit Got you all up in your feelings and shit Problem is, she addicted to the real nigga shit To the real nigga shit 50 dollar, hundred dollar bill shit Gold crown on a real nigga wrist Fresh like my nephew Khalil in this bitch .40 cal, no concealing the shit 4 gun cases, I'm still with this shit Backlit, wood wheel when I whip Got her right up on my lap, that's a real nigga risk In the field on my tip Hoes like Phil then I Stockton assist It ain't no stoppin' shit Avoid the potholes, put stocks on the 6
[Verse 6: Problem] Got Mary blowing Jane We fucking high, sex on a plane Hey newscaster, we about to reign Loving the club because we fill the section with pain, c'mon Blow him up, finna explode All of hell's kitchen praying he don't stick from the stove God got me, illum-i-not-me written in bold Slept on, now I'm everywhere like g-g-g-go crazy 'Bout 150 Let me tell y'all now, I want Nicki Lift her up high up like helicopter far away from her fellow Let her play problem While problem tongue play with propeller (what) Keep fresh just in margielas Diamond lane running thangs ain't shit you can tell us (don't tell us nothing) Done everything, ain't shit you can sell us Money over bullshit, friction derail us (naw) [?] niggas, yeah we take it or leave it But know it's over since I was [?] You nervous like I thought you seen [?] Got everybody thanking me [?] I'm a boss [?] [?] [?] Cause I'm a mad man Fuck niggas like the Klan, man Put you to sleep like the sandman Give me the throne, I'm a chairman (diamond) Rolex beat, it's time for just winning, no fakes Just copped more 45's and 9s, I ain't talking bout no J's Please be afraid but I ain't the shooter [?] Riding shotty in the chevy [?] know as a Krueger Lyrical Ruger, pop your medulla You lukewarm, boy, go get you a cooler please Your bitch know that I'm cooler, please Your bitch know that I'm cooler, please So cool I could fucking die if I drop a few degrees Boss daddy used to call the police Get it good girl, use your knees I love them brainiacs Yeah, my last ho had a few degrees (for real) Back on my Compton shit Demonic how I demolish shit Angelic with my intuition Student of game make hoes pay tuition (huh) No dice, no pill, but I'm on a roll That one nigga that Kendrick can't control (what) Problem