No introduction needed, I'm a genius You know me, I stay G'd up 'Bout to go bigger than Meech A-COLD-WALL cardigan, fleece (Jay Trench) I dress like I could have been Jesus Walk with the thorns in my feet Money gave me OCD I stack up the racks, all neat Your baby boy's biting, they teethin' SMA gold, I'ma feed them Step outta line, I beat them 'Cause you and your daddy not even Yeah, I was just broke, this the millionaire flow They wish they were me and I wish that they won't Do with that shit, nigga, stand on your own I'm on my own, I can't give a dog a bone, yeah Where your racks like I stole them, bag up the dough, yeah Demon mode, tryna sell me a soul, yeah 2019, getting rich for the whole year We eating good, no more rice at home, yeah I make her soak, yeah, I get her wet-wet Top, dome, neck-neck, coupe-coupe, 'Vette, bet Don't know 'bout that shoe spray, I still won't protect it N.E.R.D, yeah, I roll with a Tech Deck I love a third eye, I know where you at Just left Dubai, Rolls-Royce, back at the back Hop on the flight, flight attendant know who I am And she not my wife, she wanna smoke, yeah, she wanna pipe How can she slap? How can you slap? How can she slap? How can she slap? Run up the racks, I ain't goin' back to the trap Hop on the stage, immediately go Mich Jack These terrorist hoes tryna blow me like Iraq Hopped on Earth, I wanna make more niggas wanna watch they back It is what it is and it was what is was, this is this, this is that No, I can't go clueless, I'm in south like Ludacris I sat down with Judas, you think I knew this? Ride with a blue ting, causing a nuisance All that talk, but you niggas just useless I ain't going outside, I ain't going out stupid African gene, yeah, talk with a toothpick Skin never going away, can't lose it Verified in the streets, fuck a blue tick (Shit) Count up the racks, make sure it's all there Young black and rich, got the racists scared When I cry, nigga, got blood for tears Money died and I can't even think that I've failed Food at the table, my niggas, we share Fuck the charts, I'ma get a hit song this year Big gelato, I don't drink beer I don't wanna hear the word "sauce" in here I ain't tryna fuck, she tryna force me here I want the dome, yeah, hands on her horse weave hair