Oh, what a feelin’ with the stars in the ceiling

Smokin’ Cubans in the lobby ’cause you own the whole building

All the hate and the envy got these niggas in they feelings

They wishing you was dead but you just made a killing

Close my eyes and proceed to manifest

Dieme bulletproof Louis V vest

What I studied in the streets so I knowin’ it’s a test

Back when I was chicken flipping, twelve bands for a breast

Oh, what a feelin’ with the stars in the ceiling

Smokin’ Cubans in the lobby ’cause you own the whole building

All the hate and the envy got these niggas in they feelings

They wishing you was dead but you just made a killing

Close my eyes and proceed to manifest

Dieme bulletproof Louis V vest

What I studied in the streets so I knowin’ it’s a test

Back when I was chicken flipping, twelve bands for a breast

Nine hunnid for the wings, three bands for the thighs

Take it out the pot same color as the fries

Still havin’ motion, why y’all acting so surprised?

Same job, same work, why y’all acting so deprived?

Get my money, mind my business, I’m just tryna catch a vibe

Ninth inning, bases loaded, y’all gon’ make a nigga slide

Undisclosed location, I don’t really do it live

Y’all be doin’ to much, that ain’t how you stay alive

They say I fell what, they can go ahead and stop it

Just like this hundred grand, yeah, I’m always in pocket

Used to sell ’em in the wrap but double it when you rock it

But keep that stick with ya in case them niggas outta pocket

I sat alone and prayed so many nights

White seats, white Rolls, I played so many nights

Hopped out with that new AP, turn off the lights

Mister own half of my city, my future bright

Ain’t shit changed from blocks to flipping buildings

Just know I put ’em all in my trust, that’s for my children

Them pussies throwing so many stones, could build a building

But fuck them niggas, proving ’em wrong is I’m skilled in

Picture this, ya boy at the stove, look like I’m fishing

Tryna get an extra nine out them Os, that’s what I’m wishing

The irony of white squares in the attic nowadays

White face no stones in the Patek, come on

Got a fetish for them rubber bands

Sanitizer for the dirty money in my hands

And all my blues got blood on ’em

And the bottles of the Yak, I got a plug on ’em

Got a fetish for them rubber bands

Sanitizer for the dirty money in my hands

And all my blues got blood on ’em

And the bottles of the Yak, I got a plug on ’em

Boss shit, that’s what I do, you know I do it best

Right hand tied, I start whipping with the left

Life sentence, nigga, know I’m balling to the death

Only thing I never made a mill’ on is meth

That Phantom ride better when you beatin’ all the odds

That liquor taste taste better when you beatin’ all the frauds

Got dealt a bad hand but you still play your cards

That’s when you really real when you really live your bars

And yeah, that’s on God and the rest is on me

You really got it out the mud, that’s when you know that shit P

Don’t cost shit to hate, that’s how you know that shit free

Black trucks back to back, that’s how you know that shit me

Got a fetish for them rubber bands

Sanitizer for the dirty money in my hands

And all my blues got blood on ’em

And the bottles of the Yak, I got a plug on ’em

Got a fetish for them rubber bands

Sanitizer for the dirty money in my hands

And all my blues got blood on ’em

And the bottles of the Yak, I got a plug on ’em

Boss shit, that’s what I do, you know I do it best

Right hand tied, I start whipping with the left

Life sentence, nigga, know I’m balling to the death

Only thing I never made a million on is meth

Boss shit, that’s what I do, you know I do it best

Right hand tied, I start whipping with the left

Life sentence, nigga, know I’m balling to the death

Only thing I never made a million on is meth