Intro -The Weeknd] She's about to earn some bragging rights I'm 'bout to give it up like I've been holding back all night Girl, take pride in what you want to do Even if that means a new man every night inside of you Baby, I don't mind You can tell by how I roll Cause my clique hot and my cup cold My talk slurred cause I’m so throwed And I'm wiping sweat from my last show And he's TG and I'm XO I'm only here for one night Then I'mma be a memory Say it in my ear, so I can hear what you're saying to me I got cups full of that Rose Smoke anything that's passed to me Don't worry 'bout my voice I won't need it for what I'm about to do to you
[Hook x2] Bad bitch, girl I think I might get used to you I might have to take your number when I'm through with you All I ask of you is try to earn my memory Make me remember you like you remember me
[Verse 1 - Wiz Khalifa] Old rapping ass Light years past the class Hit it, don't have to pass Nigga, we the new Aftermath Niggas after fame, I just had to laugh Niggas after fame, I'm after cash You's a fan, I'm a player I'm the man, you's a hater And I only smoke papers That's how you tell I'm Taylor'd Nigga listen Break it down, rolling weed on the island of my kitchen And not a thing goes down without permission Look, everything I got on I was made for Everything that I got I done came for All the shit that you see I done slaved for All the cars and the crib, yeah that's paid for Need I say more Spend so much money on clothes Said fuck a store, making my own I hope that you're rolling one up while you're singing along And know I was rolling one while I was making this song Pour out some shots You're taking too long Young and I'm rich And plus all of my friends on that Bombay and lemonade
[Hook]
[Verse 2 - Wiz Khalifa] I'm on some gin, you on some gin I'm moving slow, I'm driving fast I hit the weed, you take the wheel We lose control Drop the top in that 69 And that motor roar in that old Chevelle Can’t say a thing, how you supposed to feel Stacking all of this paper, dawg I like to call this shit old news It means haters jocking our old moves Popping champagne cause we made it Back of the Phantom, we faded All of this shit that I did I probably won't remember tomorrow