[feat. Migos, Riff Raff & Oj Da Juiceman]
Migos in the building, what's up Rich Kid?
What we pulling up in?
Shit, I might get that Rari
What you say? Aston Martin!
Shit, tell the hoes I'm sorry, young man
[Hook x2: Quavo]
Bird singing just like Marvin, you niggas out here starving
My diamond is sparkling, I'm rich, nigga, pardon me!
Sorry, might pull up in that Rari
Pardon me, sorry, might pull up that Aston Martin
Come up in that Rari, they be CG like my [?]
Platinum diamond, got me looking like Atari
Took her for some collard greens yo ho don't say sorry
I'm a walking leach,.. singing like they're Marvin
Hosted in the trap, brand new Aston Martin
Hundred round drums, hit the band, we're marching!
Hustling everyday, young nigga, we ain't starving
Make a play throwing bombs... Brett Farvein'
OK, I pull up in that Rari everything so stupid
Young rich nigga, treating bitch like Cupid
Shawty wanna do it, she see seen the Louis
She just sit there blew it, she trying to get to it!
And my swag Versace, swagger try to copy it
Foreign bitch, she super bad, she eating calamari
All I count is bands, all I see is racks
Make a chick, I fuck it, then I make it back
Shawty, she be calling me, but I don't call her back
Earrings cost a rack, I just bought a watch
And I'm in that Maserati, mother fuck the cops
See me in a Lamborghini, I'm a try to talk, talk
[Verse 3: Riff Raff]
I go! I put my Lambo on cruise control
My seat spicy spouting red like chili bowl
I'm a throw some Spanish rice at a centerfold (she spin)
I can ball like Troy Aikman at the Super Bowl
Nice ice, my ice brighter than a night light!
My night life let you understand why I can't have no wife! (Damn!)
My trunk think, automatic car crime
Bitch, stop leaning on my 'rar
You finna scratch my paint
[Verse 4: Quavo]
Go! Versace on my fangs cause I'm selling chicken fingers
I don't talk to strangers, got guns like a Ranger
Pull up in that [?] look like a transformer
Drop the top and windows cause my car got the seat warmers
You mad cause you boring
Broke, ain't got no money
In the ville cooling Versace Paul Bunyan
Smoking on that onion
Your bitch ain't worth nothing
Laughing with money
Taking trips across the country!
[Verse 5: Takeoff]
On my way to Costa Rica I just left for Argentina
Hurricane Katrina will somebody please call FEMA
My shirt it is silk and my sleeves is a cheetah
My top drop blunt hit a rhyme with a heater
I've been stunt so much, they call me Evil Knievel
Well respected in the hood like my momma was a reaper
Pull up in that Lotus Focus might mistake me for a creature
I done taught so many lessons they call me ol' Takeoff the Teacher
Free my nigga Offset!
Man my nigga locked up when he get out he gonna lock the streets back up
My brother, young rich nigga shit
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